THAT  TREASURE 


[I1NIV.  OF  CALIF.  LIBRARY,  LOS  ANGELES 


TOM  AND  WILLIAM  ON  THE  PLAINS      See  page  18. 


THAT  TREASURE 

OR 

Adventures  of  Frontier  Life 


BY 

FRANK  H.  CONVERSE 

AUTHOR    OF 

"A  Voyage  to  the  Gold  Coast,"  "  In  Search  of  an  Unknown  Race,"  etc 


PHILADELPHIA 

DAVID   McKAY,   PUBLISHER 
610  SOUTH  WASHINGTON  SQUARE 


Copyright,  1887,  1888 
By  Frank  A.  Munsey 

Copyright,  1900 
By  Street  and  Smith 


THAT  TREASURE. 


CHAPTER  L 

THE  VISION   OF   THE  LOST  TBEASTJBE. 

SHAEPLY  outlined  against  the  blue  southern  hori- 
zon rise  the  summits  of  two  mighty  volcano  peaks. 
On  every  side  stand  mountain  ranges,  which  the 
keen,  clear  air  seems  to  bring  close  to  the  broad 
streets  of  the  city;  a  city  stately  with  domes,  tow- 
ers, and  steeples,  a  city  df  ancient  power  and 
grandeur,  a  city  famed  in  history,  in  poetry,  and  in 
romance,  the  old  capital  of  the  Aztec  Emperors,  the 
City  of  Mexico. 

In  one  of  its  streets  was  a  low  stone  building, 
with  flat  roof  and  balconied  upper  windows.  In  the 
doorway  there  stood  a  handsome,  athletic  young 
fellow  in  his  seventeenth  year,  as  straight  as  an 
Apache  arrow,  with  crisp  dark  hair,  and  keen  black 
eyes;  American  by  birth,  cosmopolitan  from  force  of 
circumstances. 

"  How  do  the  Mexican  dollars  come  in  today,  Mr. 
Britzer?"  Tom  Dean  asked  carelessly  of  a  middle 
aged  man,  broad  shouldered  and  long  armed,  but 
dwarfed  in  stature,  and  with  a  singularly  repulsive 
face. 

"  They  don't  come  in,"  growled  Britzer,  who  was 
sitting  in  a  dilapidated  rocker,  that  formed  part  of 
his  stock  in  trade.  This  stock  consisted  entirely  of 


2126199 


6     •  THAT  TREASURE. 

second  hand  goods  of  American  manufacture,  some 
of  which  were  displayed  about  his  store  door.  "  It 
was  a  big  mistake,  this  op^nin'  a  branch  store  down 
here,  where  these  furriners  don't  know  a  bargain 
when  they  see  one,"  he  went  on,  "and  I  wish  I'd 
stayed  in  New  York.  How's  bizness  with  you  and 
the  professor  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Oh,  so  so,"  was  the  evasive  answer.  "  I  don't 
think  any  one  of  us  Yankees  is  going  to  make  his 
fortune  here,"  Tom  added. 

Britzer  muttered  something  uncomplimentary  to 
Mexican  enterprise,  and  proceeded  to  fill  a  well 
browned  meerschaum  in  gloomy  silence.  Tom  stood 
idly  watching  the  passing  panorama,  the  novelty  of 
which  had  not  entirely  worn  off. 

Pack  mules  from  the  mountains  loaded  down  with 
ore  were  rambling  along  in  single  file  through  the 
dusty  streets,  with  now  and  then  a  Mexican  horse- 
man in  his  strikingly  picturesque  garb.  There  were 
peon  laborers  and  olive  hued  natives,  handsome 
Creoles,  Europeans,  and  mulattoes,  and  everywhere 
the  dirty,  half  clad  lepero  with  loaded  revolver  con- 
cealed somewhere  under  his  ragged  blanket.  He  is 
the  Thug  of  Mexican  society.  When  begging  and 
imposture  fail  him,  he  takes  to  robbery  or  murder. 

A  bronzed  and  bearded  man  of  middle  age,  who 
was  entirely  different  in  dress  and  appearance  from 
the  throng  of  mixed  races  about  him,  suddenly 
arrested  Tom's  attention.  He  was  elbowing  his  way 
nervously  through  the  indolent  natives,  his  gaze 
being  evidently  fixed  on  the  stores  of  the  American 
traders. 

He  wore  the  typical  border  dress,  the  wide 
brimmed  sombrero,  the  blue  shirt,  knotted  at  the 
throat  with  a  bright  handkerchief,  riding  overalls 
tucked  into  high  boots,  and  the  inevitable  revolver 
in  its  stamped  leather  holster  at  his  hip. 


THAT  TEEASUEE.  7 

"I  reckon  this  yere's  the  place,"  he  said,  half 
aloud  ;  and,  halting  directly  before  the  doorway 
where  Tom  was  standing,  he  glanced  upwards  at  a 
small  sign  between  the  two  second  floor  windows,  on 
which  was  this  inscription: 

PEOFESSOE  DEAN, 
El  gran  Americano  Medico  e  Astrologo. 

"  Anything  in  my  line  today  ?"  blandly  asked 
Britzer,  confronting  the  new  comer;  "a  secondhand 
rifle,  good  as  new,  or — " 

"  There's  nothin'  in  your  line,"  was  the  curt  reply. 
Elbowing  Britzer  aside  with  scant  ceremony  the 
speaker  ascended  the  stairs  to  the  upper  room,  which 
Mr.  Britzer  had  leased  to  Professor  Dean,  the  great 
American  Physician  and  Astrologer. 

Obedient  to  a  call  from  above,  Tom  ran  lightly  up 
the  stairs. 

"  That's  only  four  has  be'n  to  the  professor  in  a 
week — he  can't  be  earnin'  his  salt,"  muttered  Britzer; 
*'  next  thing  he'll  be  pulling  up,  and  the  room  left 
vacant." 

And  very  wrathfully  Mr.  Britzer  resumed  bis  seat 
and  his  pipe. 

Tom  entered  the  room  above,  and  stood  waiting 
the  will  of  the  professor.  The  latter  was  a  tall, 
gaunt  man,  with  a  smooth  shaven,  colorless  face  ; 
his  iron  gray  hair  fell  on  his  shoulders  in  heavy 
masses. 

"  As  I  was  tellin'  you,  p'fessor,"  the  visitor  was 
saying,  "I  heard  of  you  bein'  kind  of  an — an 
astrologer,  so  I  come  here  jest  to  see  if  you  could 
give  me  any  light  on  the  subjec'  of  my  lost  gol' 
dust — but,  mind  you,  I  want  a  fair  deal  an'  no  hum- 
buggery  bizness  about  it — savey  ?" 

"  I  understand,"  was  the  quiet  reply.  The  profes- 
sor motioned  the  visitor,  who  had  briefly  remarked 


8  THAT  TEEASUKE. 

that  his  name  was  William  "  without  nothin*  else," 
to  a  seat,  and  turned  to  Tom.  The  boy,  knowing 
what  was  expected  of  him,  had  seated  himself  in  an 
old  chair. 

"Look,"  said  the  professor,  holding  one  of  his 
long,  thin  fingers  upright;  and  Tom's  upturned  eyes 
became  fixed  and  staring.  Professor  Dean  made  a 
few  passes  before  his  face — Iris  eyelids  drooped,  and 
he  was  no  longer  master  of  his  own  thoughts  or  will. 

"  What  do  you  see  ?"  asked  the  professor ;  but 
Tom  did  not  immediately  reply. 

"  He  is  now  under  the  control  of  the  spirits,"  said 
Professor  Dean  to  his  visitor.  His  manner  was 
earnest,  and  he  seemed  to  be  perfectly  sincere  in 
what  he  was  saying. 

William  muttered  something  which  sounded  re- 
markably like  "  gammon,"  but  seemed  to  be  im- 
pressed withal. 

Suddenly  Tom  began  speaking  in  a  clear  but 
monotonous  voice. 

"  There  is  a  desert,  with  white  sand,  and  gray 
dust.  Prickly  plants  grow  in  little  patches,  but 
nothing  else — " 

"  'Ceptin'  sage  brush  " — hoarsely  whispered  Wil- 
liam. Tom  went  on  precisely  like  a  person  talking 
in  his  sleep. 

"  Miles  and  miles  across  this  desert  are  hills,  with 
trees  and  shrubs  and  grass.  There  are  great  ledges 
where  men  have  blasted  the  rocks,  and  deep  cuts 
where  they  have  dug  in  the  earth.  Down  through 
the  hills  runs  a  stream,  that  divides  a  little  settle- 
ment of  one  story  board  houses  all  falling  to 
pieces,  with  here  and  there  a  larger  building  of 
unburnt  bricks — " 

"  Adobe,"  again  put  in  William,  who  now  drinking 
in  every  word  with  intense  eageiness.  "  Go  ahead, 
young  fellow." 


THAT  TREASURE.  9 

Entirely  unmindful  of  the  interruption,  Tom  con- 
tinued: 

"  There  are  only  two  men  in  the  whole  settlement. 
It  is  night,  and  they  are  sitting  at  a  table  in  the 
largest  of  the  buildings.  Before  them  are  four 
little  leather  bags  of  yellow  dust.  All  at  once  ^here 
are  fierce  cries  and  yells  outside.  One  of  the  men 
springs  to  his  feet,  snatches  a  gun  from  the  corner 
and  runs  out.  He  fires  again,  and  again !  Then — " 
And  here  Tom  paused. 

"Goon!"  said  the  professor,  fixing  his  eyes  on 
the  boy's  face,  over  which  an  expression  of  horror 
was  passing. 

"I  cannot  see  plain  now,"  returned  Tom  in  a 
troubled  voice.  "I  can  only  make  out  the  man 
down,  with  Indians  dancing  and  yelling  about  him." 

"All  that's  c'rect  as  fur's  it  goes,  for  I'm  the  man 
that  the  hounds  was  on  to,"  interrupted  William, 
springing  wildly  to  his  feet ;  "  but  it  ain't  him  I 
wanter  know  about. — it's  the  other  man,  with  the 
gol'  dust — what  come  to  him  ?"  But  the  interruption 
had  broken  Tom's  mesmeric  slumber,  and  with  a 
start  and  a  sigh  he  opened  his  eyes. 

"Say,  youngster,"  excitedly  demanded  William, 
"  can't  you  tell  what  came  to  the  other  chap  ?" 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean,  sir,"  replied  Tom, 
simply;  and  his  face  showed  that  he  was  speaking 
the  truth. 

"  Another  crusher,"  muttered  William,  as  though 
in  soliloquy,  "an'  twenty  five  thousan'  dollars  in 
gol'  dust  apexienify  as  fur  off  as  ever." 


10  THAT  TREASURE. 


CHAPTER  n. 

TOM   FINDS   A   FRIEND    IN   NEED. 

THE  professor's  and  Tom's  frugal  evening  meal  of 
eggs,  tortillas  and  fruit,  was  finished. 

The  building  in  which  they  were  was  constructed 
after  the  Mexican  style,  in  the  shape  of  a  quad- 
rangle. A  wide  stone  balcony  extended  entirely 
around  the  square  interior,  only  broken  by  flights  of 
stone  steps  leading  into  the  patio  or  court  yard 
below. 

The  house  was  divided  into  tenements,  whose 
occupants  seemed  to  live  in  the  open  air.  Men 
lounged  about  the  court  yard,  smoking  the  inevit- 
able cigarette,  in  the  faint  twilight ;  senoritas  and 
matrons  leaned  over  the  balustrade,  and  children 
played  in  and  out  of  the  rooms.  The  tinkle  of  a 
guitar,  blended  with  rather  a  fine  voice,  rose  to  the 
ears  of  Tom  and  the  professor,  who  were  sitting  on 
the  balcony  before  their  windows. 

"  Tom,"  said  the  professor,  who  had  been  unusu- 
ally silent,  "  my  heart  has  been  troubling  me  more 
than  ever,  of  late.  I  sometimes  wish  we  were  back 
in  New  York,  where  I  could  see  Dr.  Mott  again 
about  it." 

Tom  had  wished  so  more  than  once,  within  the 
past  week.  He  was  quite  sure  that  the  extreme 
rarity  of  the  atmosphere  at  such  a  height  above  the 
sea  was  anything  but  good  for  the  professor's 
chronic  ailment.  Besides,  he  had  begun  to  feel,  like 


THAT  TKEASURE.  11 

Britzer,  that  their  Mexican  venture  would  not  be  a 
success. 

"  If  any  thing  should  happen  to  me — a — "  suddenly 
continued  the  professor,  with  something  of  an 
effort,  "our  little  fortune — it  will  be  yours,  then, 
remember — is  all  in  the  old  pocket  book,  which  I  put 
under  my  pillow  every  night.  Those  five  one 
thousand  dollar  bills,  Tom,  have  been  the  rounds 
with  us  quite  a — " 

"  Hush  1"  interrupted  Tom,  turning  his  head 
quickly.  "  I  thought  I  heard  some  one  breathing 
just  oehind  us." 

The  professor  started  nervously,  as  a  dusky 
winged  vampire  bat  came  sailing  out  of  Britzer's 
open  window,  uttering  a  soft  hiss  as  it  fluttered  by. 

"Bah !"  he  said,  with  a  half  shudder,  "  it's  an  evil 
omen !  I  don't  want  to  talk  any  more.  I'm  going 
to  bed." 

"  And  I,"  said  Tom,  who  had  been  made  uneasy 
by  Professor  Dean's  words,  "  shall  go  for  a  strolL 
The  moon  is  rising,  and  the  Plaza  Major  will  look 
beautiful  in  half  an  hour." 

Thus  saying  he  turned  towards  the  door.  It 
always  gives  him  a  sad  pleasure  to  remember  that 
as  he  passed  the  swinging  cot  in  which  the  profes- 
sor lay  smoking,  the  latter  gently  laid  a  hand  on  his 
shoulder. 

"  Good  night,  my  boy,  and  God  bless  you,"  he 
said,  tenderly.  "  No  son  could  have  been  as  dear  to 
me  as  you,  Tom." 

And  Tom,  with  an  unwonted  moisture  in  his  eyes, 
silently  pressed  the  caressing  hand,  and  descended 
to  the  street,  thinking  of  the  professor's  singular 
mood,  and  particularly  of  his  last  words. 

For  Tom  was  a  waif  and  a  stray.  The  professor 
had  found  him,  a  sturdy  urchin  of  four  years  old, 
toddling  about  one  of  the  steamboat  piers  in  New 


12  THAT  TEEASUEE. 

York,  after  the  departure  of  the  Fall  Kiver  boat, 
looking  for  "  mamma."  Papa  had  "  gone  to  heaven," 
as  he  said,  and  this  was  all  the  family  history  Tom 
could  relate.  Advertisements  were  tried  in  vain, 
and  the  professor,  a  lonely  single  man,  had  taken 
Tom  into  his  own  life.  The  boy  had  accompanied 
the  professor  in  his  varied  wanderings  through  the 
continent,  and  by  his  help  picked  up  a  haphazard 
half  education.  His  intense  love  of  reading  was  a 
great  help  to  him.  For  the  rest,  he  had  been  taught 
to  be  truthful,  honest  and  clean  mouthed. 

All  this  passed  through  Tom's  mind.  What  could 
he  do,  if  anything  happened  to  his  friend  and  pro- 
tector? 

The  streets  were  almost  deserted.  He  met 
occasionally  a  drowsy  policeman,  or  a  slouching 
lepero,  but  the  rest  of  the  community  was  asleep. 

He  lingered  a  moment  to  gaze  at  the  great  struc- 
ture built  on  the  site  of  the  former  palace  of  the 
Montezumas.  With  the  magnificent  public  gardens 
and  wide  square  adjoining,  it  was  bathed  in  a 
splendor  of  moonlight.  Hence  he  walked  by  the 
cathedral  and  market  place  to  the  canal,  and  then 
turned  to  retrace  his  steps,  when  he  caught  the 
sound  of  a  scuffle  and  angry  voices  close  at  hand. 

Rounding  the  nearest  corner,  in  a  dark  angle 
made  by  the  junction  of  two  buildings,  he  saw  a 
bare  headed  man  striking  out  fiercely  with  a  clubbed 
revolver  at  five  swarthy  Mexicans,  who  were  fiercely 
closing  upon  him,  knife  in  hand,  to  accomplish  their 
murderous  purpose. 

Tom  glanced  quickly  about  him.  Upon  a  pile  of 
stones,  close  at  hand,  where  the  pavement  had  been 
that  day  repaired,  lay  an  ironwood  lever,  five  feet 
long,  a  couple  of  inches  through,  and  heavy  enough 
to  fell  an  ox. 

A  second   later,  as  Tom's  powerful  young  arms 


THAT  TREASURE.  13 

swung  it  above  his  head,  a  yell  of  dismay  on  one 
hand,  and  of  exultation  on  the  other,  echoed  on  the 
midnight  air.  The  sound,  however,  did  not  awaken 
the  nearest  native  policeman. 

'•  Whoop-ee !  give  'em  p'ticler  I"  shouted  tha 
assaulted  man,  bringing  down  the  butt  of  his 
revolver  with  telling  effect  upon  a  Mexican's  head. 

Two  of  the  leperos  were  now  disabled,  and  the 
rest  took  to  their  heels. 

"  You'd  better  leg  it,  you  coyotes,"  exclaimed  the 
stranger,  stepping  forward  into  the  clear  moon- 
light. 

Tom  saw  at  a  glance  that  it  was  William,  of  the 
afternoon's  interview;  while  without  any  exhibition 
of  surprise,  that  individual  grasped  his  extended 
hand. 

"Gome  on  out  of  this,  youngster,  an'  let  them 
fellers  rekiver  at  their  leisure,"  he  said,  with  a  con- 
temptuous glance  at  the  half  stunned  Mexicans. 
And  picking  up  his  sombrero,  William  dropped  his 
revolver  into  place  and  linked  his  arm  in  Tom's. 

"  I  thought  when  I  see  you  this  afternoon  you  was 
built  for  somethin'better'n  mouthpiecin' f or  sperits," 
he  said,  gravely,  "an'  now  I'm  sure  of  it.  Much 
obliged;  mebbe  I'll  do  as  much  for  you  some  day." 

"  How  did  it  happen  ?"  asked  Tom,  quietly, 
amused  at  the  matter  of  fact  speech  of  his  com- 
panion. 

"  They  was  into  a  place  where  I  was  havin'  a  drink 
of  this  here  Mexican  pulque,  that  tastes  wuss'n 
spiced  buttermilk,"  explained  William.  "  I  hauled 
out  some  gol'  pieces  when  I  paid,  an'  they  follered 
me  out.  Fool-like,  I  come  away  from  my  room 
without  puttin'  kertridges  in  my  revolver,  else  I'd 
ha'  settled  the  posse  of  'em  in  no  time,  same's  they 
been  so  many  perary  wolves." 

Thus  discoursing,  the  two  walked  rapidly  along 


14  THAT  TEEASUBE. 

without  further  signs  of  molestation,  till  they 
reached  San  Luis  Street,  and  turned  the  familiar 
corner. 

"  Somethin's  wrong  to  your  place,"  exclaimed 
"William.  Tom  saw  lights  flitting  from  room  to 
room,  and  heard  the  sound  of  excited  voices  at  the » 
open  window.  He  did  not  wait  to  hear  further.  He 
ran  through  the  wide  open  door,  and  up  tiie  stone 
stairway,  where  half  dressed  men  and  terrified 
looking  women  were  swarming.  A  native  police- 
man at  the  door  was  solemnly  waving  off  the  curi- 
ous intruders  in  the  entry. 

"  "What  is  the  matter  ?"  gasped  Tom,  pushing  his 
way  forcibly  into  the  room. 

But  the  question  was  needless.  Stretched  on  a 
a  couch  covered  with  rawhide  lay  all  that  was  mortal 
of  Tom's  protector.  Throwing  himself  on  his 
knees  beside  the  dead  man,  with  a  great  cry,  the 
boy  hid  his  face  in  his  hands. 

There  was  little  to  tell;  yet  that  little  was  full  of 
significance.  The  portero,  or  court  yard  janitor, 
had  been  awakened  by  some  one  softly  descending 
the  steps  from  the  balcony.  Upon  being  hailed, 
the  intruder  gave  no  answer,  but  ran  quickly  to  the 
gate  and  drew  back  the  fastenings.  Convinced  that 
a  thieving  lepero  had  gained  admission,  the  portero 
discharged  a  rusty  blunderbuss,  and  shouted  lustily 
for  the  police. 

Of  course  the  intruder  was  unharmed  by  the 
fire,  and  escaped.  Lights  were  brought,  the  little 
community  was  aroused,  and  it  was  discovered  that 
the  professor  was  dead  in  his  swinging  cot,  yet 
without  wound  or  bruise  on  his  person. 

The  pillow  on  which  Professor  Dean's  head  had 
rested  was  lying  on  the  tiled  floor.  Whether  the 
midnight  intruder  had  robbed  the  dead,  or  whether 
his  unexpected  entrance  had  caused  the  fatal 


THAT  TREASURE.  15 

shock,  none  could  tell;  for  although  the  lifeless 
eyes  were  wide  open,  the  professor's  features  were 
calm  and  composed. 

The  old  fashioned  pocket  book  which  had  always 
been  under  his  pillow  at  night  was  gone,  and  with 
it  a  sum  of  money  in  silver  and  gold  kept  for  ordi- 
nary expenses. 

Britzer,  who  claimed  to  have  been  aroused  by  the 
report  of  the  bliinderbuss,  said  that  beyond  doubt 
the  robber  was  a  lepero.  He  had  seen  him,  he 
added,  quite  distinctly  for  a  moment  in  the  moon- 
light, as  he  fled  through  the  gate;  he  wore  the 
regulation  blanket  and  slouch  hat  of  the  suspected 
race.  The  portero  corroborated  Britzer's  statement, 
and  as  there  was  no  reason  for  suspecting  any  one  in 
the  building,  the  authorities  contented  themselves 
by  offering  a  reward.  On  the  following  day,  haste 
being  necessitated  by  the  heat  of  the  climate,  Pro- 
fessor Dean  was  buried  in  the  little  Protestant  cem- 
etery, aud  Tom  returned  to  the  desolate  room  a 
friendless  stranger,  alone  in  a  foreign  land  1 

Desolate  and  down  hearted,  he  was  sitting  by  the 
open  window  after  the  funeral.  He  had  never  real- 
ized before  how  strong  was  his  affection  for  the 
good  hearted  man  who  had  been  a  father  to  him, 
and  the  tears  rose  to  his  eyes  as  he  glanced  at  the 
dead  professor's  scanty  possessions  scattered  about 
the  room. 

"  I  don't  want  to  hurry  you,  Tom,"  said  the  voice 
of  Britzer,  who  appeared  in  the  doorway,  "  but  I've 
got  a  chance  to  rent  the  room  right  away  to  a  trav- 
eling photographer,  and — " 

Tom  rose  without  a  word.  His  involuntary 
prejudice  against  the  man  before  him  had  grown 
stronger  through  certain  shadowy,  yet  almost 
baseless  suspicions  entertained  since  Professor 
Dean's  death. 


16  THAT  TREASURE. 

"  I  suppose  I  am  at  liberty  to  take  my  own  and 
Professor  Dean's  things  away?"  he  said,  in  a  dry, 
bard  voice. 

"  Of  course,"  was  the  reply,  "  provided  you  don't 
take  nothin'  else;  you  know  the  room  was  let  fur- 
nished." 

"  I  know  if  you  make  another  such  statement  as 
that  I'll  throw  you  down  stairs  I"  exclaimed  Tom, 
with  flashing  eyes. 

Britzer  glared  at  him  in  silent  fury  and  was 
dumb. 

There  were  but  few  things  to  collect.  Tom  had 
given  the  porter  the  professor's  scanty  wardrobe 
and  such  articles  as  he  did  not  desire  as  keepsakes. 
A  revolver,  presented  him  in  San  Francisco  by  a 
patron  who  had  captured  it  from  a  road  agent;  his 
meerschaum  pipe,  and  a  long,  flat  pocket  book  in 
which  the  professor  had  kept  a  sort  of  spasmodic 
diary — these  were  all,  besides  Tom's  small  stock  of 
underclothing.  The  whole  was  packed  in  a  well 
worn  gripsack,  Britzer  matching  the  operation  in 
scowling  silence. 

"For  some  reason  or  other,  you're  in 'a  great 
hurry  to  get  me  out  of  this  room,  Mr.  Britzer,"  said 
Tom,  as  with  a  final  glance  about  the  apartment  he 
stepped  into  the  entry;  "but  that  doesn't  matter 
much,  for  I  don't  think  I  should  feel  altogether  safe 
to  pass  another  night  under  the  same  roof  with 
you !" 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?"  fiercely  demanded  Britzer, 
while  his  florid  features  suddenly  took  on  an  ashy 
pallor. 

"  I  mean,"  replied  Tom,  slowly,  "  that  something 
tells  me  you  were  the  perpetrator  of  the  robbery 
and  murder — for  murder  it  was — committed  in  this 
.room  last  night,  and  some  day  or  other  I  mean  </* 
prove  itl" 


THAT  TEEASUEE.  17 

And  without  awaiting  a  reply  from  the  cowering 
man  who  was  trying  to  speak,  Tom  descended  the 
etairs  to  the  pavement. 

"  By  the  look  of  things,  it's  lucky  I  arrove  jest  as 
I  did,"  said  a  familiar  and  welcome  voice  in  his  ear. 
*'  Might  I  be  so  bold  as  to  ask,"  inquired  "William, 
for  it  was  indeed  that  individual,  hurried  and  out  of 
breath,  "  whar  you  an1  that  ar'  gripsack  is  bound?" 

"  I  don't  know  myself,"  was  the  half  despairing 
reply.  "  I'm  turned  into  the  street,  and — " 

"Well,  I  know,"  interrupted  William,  clapping 
the  despondent  young  fellow  on  the  shoulder;  "first 
an'  foremost  you're  goin'  to  my  room  to  talk  matters 
over,  an'  consider  a  propersition  I'm  goin'  to  make 
to  you.  An'  if  you're  the  chap  I  think  you  are," 
continued  the  speaker, "  you'll  take  up  with  the  offer 
an'  go  along  of  me  down  to  Arizony,  where  I'm 
bound  to  have  another  hunt  for  my  gold  dust. 
Failin*  in  that,  you  an'  I'll  find  plenty  more  whar 
that  come  from.  Come  on  without  no  more  words." 

And  Tom  went. 


18  THAT  TEEASUEE. 


CHAPTER  HI 

HUNTED    BY  THE   APACHES. 

THBEE  weeks  had  brought  about  a  marked  change 
in  Tom  Dean's  life  and  surroundings. 

The  stir  and  bustle  of  a  large  city  had  given  place 
to  the  silence  of  the  almost  illimitable  prairie, 
broken  only  by  the  dull  hoof  beats  of  the  sturdy 
broncos  ridden  by  himself  and  his  companion. 

The  sun  beat  fiercely  down  from  a  cloudless  sky 
on  the  grayish  white  of  the  alkaline  soil,  broken 
here  and  there  by  patches  of  sage  brush  and  cactus. 
Strangely  shaped  buttea  and  peaks  of  red  sandstone 
rose  at  irregular  intervals.  Ten  miles  away,  but 
seemingly  much  nearer,  was  a  range  of  purple  hills 
with  a  thread-like  stream  flowing  down  from  the 
heights  above. 

"  Warmish,  eh,  Tom  ?"  remarked  the  elder  of  the 
two  horsemen,  removing  his  sombrero  for  the 
twentieth  time  to  draw  his  sleeve  across  his  per- 
spiring face. 

"  It's  more  than  that — scorching,  I  should  call  it," 
wearily  replied  Tom  Dean.  But  you  would  hardly 
have  recognized  the  Tom  of  former  days  in  the  sun- 
burned young  man  whose  athletic  frame  was  well 
shown  off  by  the  typical  border  costume. 

He  sat  easily  and  naturally  in  his  high  peaked 
saddle,  balancing  across  the  saddle  bow  a  Reming- 
ton rifle.  This,  as  well  as  the  heavy  revolver  slung 


THAT  1EEASUEE.  19 

at  his  side,  Tom  had  already  learned  to  use  with 
tolerable  accuracy,  thanks  to  a  quick  eye,  steady 
nerve,  and  strong  arm,  as  well  as  the  careful  in- 
structions of  William,  whose  own  proficiency  with 
either  weapon  was  something  bordering  on  the 
marvelous.  , 

"  It's  nothin'  to  ridin'  across  the  *  Staked  Plains  ' 
in  July,  youngster,"  philosophically  observed  the 
other,  replacing  his  sombrero;  "an'  if  nothin'  hap- 
pens, we'll  be  campin'  under  the  cottonwoods  along- 
side the  stream  yonder  'fore  sundown  if — " 

Something  on  the  ground,  which  attracted  the 
speaker's  attention,  brought  his  speech  to  an  abrupt 
close. 

Leaping  lightly  from  his  saddle,  "William  bent 
Over  what  appeared  to  be  half  a  dozen  of  the  frag- 
ments of  meteoric  stone  which  are  common  in  these 
regions.  They  were  laid  in  regular  order,  pointing 
in  a  southeasterly  direction. 

"  What  is  it  ?"  asked  Tom,  pulling  up  his  bronco. 
At  this  the  pack  mule  ambling  behind  them  came  to 
a  full  stop,  with  with  what  seemed  to  be  a  prodigi- 
ous breath  of  relief. 

"  Apaches  ben  makin'  a  raid  on  the  border  settle- 
ments, that's  all,"  was  the  reply.  "  Them  stones 
layin*  in  a  direc'  line  means,  to  them  that  knows," 
said  William,  casting  a  glance  about  the  hazy 
horizon  as  he  remounted,  "  that  the  raid  was  a  suc- 
cess, an'  that  means,"  he  continued,  with  an  involun- 
tary clutch  of  his  rifle  barrel,  "  some  white  settler's 
ranch  burnt  down,  his  cattle  druv  off,  an*  he  an'  the 
whole  family  either  butchered  or  made  pris'ners  an* 
kerried  away." 

"I  don't  understand  this  Indian  business,"  im- 
petuously interrupted  Tom,  who  had  not  been  pay- 
ing very  close  heed  to  the  explanations;  "to  me,  it 
seems  all  strange  and  wrong.  By  what  I've  read 


20  THAT  TREASURE. 

and  things  I've  heard  you  say,"  he  went  on  rapidly, 
"  our  Government  provides  reservations  and  rations 
for  the  Apaches  as  well  as  the  peaceable  tribes,  and 
yet  whenever  they  take  the  notion  the  Apaches 
make  their  raids  on  white  settlers  and  still  go  un- 
punished; why  is  it?" 

"  That's  a  conundrum  that's  puzzled  older  heads 
than  your'n,"  grimly  returned  William,  "and,  by 
present  appearances,  there  won't  be  no  answer  given 
in  this  generation." 

There  came  a  sound  of  flying  hoof  beats  on  the 
arid  ground,  and  both  turned  suddenly  in  their 
saddles.  Coming  towards  them  at  a  terrific  rate  of 
speed,  from  behind  a  range  of  high  sand  hills 
which  they  had  passed  an  hour  before,  was  a 
mounted  horseman.  He  was  bare  headed,  and  held 
in  the  embrace  of  one  arm  a  motionless  figure, 
whose  long  black  hair  streamed  over  the  rider's 
shoulder ! 

The  horse,  a  coal  black  stallion  of  unusual  size, 
came  thundering  on.  His  glossy  sides  were  flecked 
with  patches  of  foam. 

Tom  looked  excitedly  in  the  face  of  his  com- 
panion. William  uttered  a  low  exclamation  and 
pointed  toward  the  sand  hills.  From  behind  them 
appeared,  evidently  in  pursuit,  some  twenty  mounted 
Indians,  whose  fierce  cries  came  faintly  to  their 
ears. 

"Pris'ners  that's  give  'em  the  slip,  Tom,"  said 
William,  quietly;  "now,  don't  get  flustrated,  but 
jest  keep  cool  as  a  clam,  an'  show  what  stuff  you're 
made  of." 

"  Very  good,"  returned  Tom  with  outward  com- 
posure, though  his  heart  beat  fast,  as  in  imitation 
of  his  companion  he  threw  forward  his  rifle  with  a 
glance  at  the  sight;  "only  tell  me  what  to  do  and 
I'll  do  it" 


THAT  TKEASUBE.  21 

There  was  no  time  for  further  speech.  On  came 
the  panting  steed,  leading  his  pursuers  by  a  mile 
at  least.  In  another  moment,  with  distended  nos- 
trils and  heaving  flanks,  he  was  reined  up  beside 
them! 

The  rider,  who  was  a  heavily  built  man  with 
stern,  dark  features  and  iron  gray  beard,  held  be- 
fore him  a  young  girl,  sitting  sideways  in  front  of 
the  saddle. 

She  was  supported  partly  by  the  high  pommel, 
and  partly  by  the  muscular  arm  thrown  about  her 
waist.  She  was  apparently  some  sixteen  years  of 
age,  with  dark  eyes,  and  a  wealth  of  soft  black  hair 
falling  about  her  shoulders.  This  Tom  saw  at  one 
brief  glance.  Then  the  horseman  began  in  hurried 
accents : 

"  My  daughter  and  I — " 

But  an  emphatic  gesture  from  "William  cut  short 
his  speech. 

"Make  fer  the  butte  yonder,"  he  said,  curtly; 
"  time  enough  to  talk  bimeby.  What  kind  of  guns 
hev  they?"  he  asked  in  the  same  breath;  and,  half 
turning  in  his  saddle,  he  drew  back  the  hammer  of 
his  own. 

Spurring  hastily  forward,  with  the  yells  of  the 
pursuers  sounding  nearer,  they  soon  reached  the 
foot  of  the  butte.  It  was  a  great  hillock  of  red 
sandstone,  worn  by  the  action  of  wind  and  storm 
into  fantastic  shapes.  Above  a  series  of  shelving 
projections,  like  irregular  steps,  was  a  plateau  some 
forty  feet  higher  than  the  plain ;  and  to  this  William 
pointed,  as  they  dismounted,  and  hurried  the 
horses  behind  a  huge  detached  fragment  at  the 
base. 

"  Git  up  thar  with  the  girl.  Tom  and  I  will 
foller  direc'ly,"  said  William,  and  as  the  order  was 
obeyed,  the  speaker  drew  Tom  behind  the  bowlder. 


22  THAT  TREASURE. 

"  Set  your  sight  at  two  hundred,  an'  aim  a  bit  low 
than  otherwise,"  he  muttered.  With  fiercer  and 
exultant  cries  the  Apaches  rode  on. 

"  Now,  Tom! " 

Tom  fired.  Following  the  report  of  the  rifle, 
there  was  a  moment  of  confusion  among  the  In- 
dians; but  it  was  a  pony,  not  an  Apache,  that  fell. 

"A  leetle  too  low,  Tom,"  coolly  said  his  comrade, 
throwing  his  own  weapon  to  his  shoulder.  Almost 
instantly  the  sharp  report  rang  out. 

A  tall  Indian,  half  naked  and  glistening  with  oil, 
tossed  his  arms  wildly  above  his  head,  and  plunged 
heavily  backward.  There  was  a  sudden  halt,  and  in 
the  twinkling  of  an  eye  every  Apache  was  hidden 
by  the  body  of  his  pony.  An  irregular  discharge 
followed  from  the  gleaming  carbine  barrels  just 
visible  over  the  backs  of  the  horses;  but  the  bullets 
flattened  themselves  against  the  face  of  the  cliff,  a 
dozen  feet  overhead. 

"Nothin*  sickens  an  Apache  like  a  long  range 
rifle,"  chuckled  William,  throwing  back  the  lever 
from  the  guard,  and  forcing  a  new  cartridge  into 
place  from  the  magazine. 

Tom  did  not  reply.  The  sudden  swerving  aside 
of  an  Indian's  horse  gave  him  the  desired  oppor- 
tunity. His  eye  glanced  along  the  barrel  and  his 
finger  pressed  the  trigger. 

"  Good  boy !"  approvingly  muttered  William,  as  a 
stifled  yell  told  that  the  ball  had  found  its  mark, 
"and  now  we'll  rejine  our  fren's  on  the  bluff." 

But  scarcely  had  Tom  and  his  companion  clam- 
bered to  the  plateau,  when  a  sudden  movement 
among  the  Apaches  indicated  some  new  plan  of 
action.  Each  sprang  to  his  horse's  back,  and  in  an- 
other moment,  with  a  succession  of  fiendish  yells, 
the  entire  party  were  dashing  forward  toward  tb& 
butte- 


THAT  TREASUEE.  28 

*'  Looks  bad,"  muttered  William,  thrusting  his  re- 
volver into  the  hands  of  the  stranger,  "  thunderin' 
bad — but  there  ain't  no  help  fer  it — they're  desp'rit 
an'  don't  mind  losin'  half  a  dozen  or  so  fer  the  sake 
of  gittin'  at  us.  Don't  waste  a  shot,  stranger." 

With  a  set  white  face  the  man  nodded,  and  drew 
back  the  hammer  of  the  heavy  revolver. 

The  Apaches  were  infuriated  by  their  losses. 
After  fruitlessly  returning  the  fire  while  at  full 
gallop,  they  dismounted  at  the  base  of  the  butte. 
Undismayed  by  the  fall  of  two  more  of  their  num- 
ber, they  began  with  fiendish  yells  to  scramble  up 
the  irregular  slope. 

"Now  for  it,"  was  Tom's  thought  as  he  awaited 
the  hand  to  hand  encounter;  and  there  was  not  long 
to  wait 


24  THAT  TREASURE. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

BESIEGED    ON   THE  BUTTE. 

THE  unusual  lack  of  caution  and  cunning  on  the 
part  of  the  Apaches,  which  exposed  them  to  the 
open  fire  of  the  party  on  the  bluff,  was  due  to  the 
effects  of  whisky  taken  from  a  trader's  wagon. 

But  even  the  fiery  fluid  failed  in  its  effects  after 
the  first  mad  rush  up  the  irregular  incline,  when 
the  assailants  came  to  a  sudden  halt  behind  a  pro- 
jecting angle  which  concealed  them  from  the  fire  of 
the  little  party  above. 

For  then  it  was  discovered  that  the  further  ascent 
leading  to  the  plateau  narrowed  suddenly,  so  that 
the  attack  must  be  made  in  single  file.  And  no  one 
seemed  disposed  to  take  the  lead,  with  the  certainty 
of  a  ball  through  his  head  the  instant  he  turned  the 
angle. 

"  None  of  'em  wants  to  bell  the  cat,"  dryly  ob- 
served William.  After  an  animated  discussion  the 
entire  party  prudently  retired  to  the  base  of  the 
plateau;  and  here,  keeping  carefully  out  of  range  of 
the  enemy's  fire,  they  seemed  to  bo  holding  a  coun- 
cil of  war.  Their  ponies  were  called  in  and  dis- 
posed close  under  the  bluff.  Soon  a  camp  fire  was 
kindled,  and  the  smoke  of  dry  sage  brush  ascended, 
mingled  with  the  more  savory  smell  of  broiling  ante- 
lope steak. 

"  Their  idea  is  to  starve  us  out,"  said  the  stranger. 

"Exac'ly,"  was  the  concise  reply.    Just  then  » 


THAT  TKEASUEE.  25 

ball  from  an  Indian's  carbine  whistled  by  William's 
head,  causing  him  to  dodge  back  out  of  range  with 
alacrity.  "  You've  jest  about  hit  it,  Mr. 

"  Sherard — Hartly  Sherard,"  supplied  the  other. 
"  Our  ranch  was  about  twenty  miles  southeast  of 
here,"  he  went  on,  as  Dolly,  his  pretty  daughter, 
drew  close  to  her  father's  side.  "Last  night  it  was 
burned  to  the  ground  by  these  fellows  below,  who 
belong  to  Geronimo's  Cniricahua  Apaches.  They 
killed  our  Mexican  servants,  and  while  part  of  them 
drove  off  the  stock,  the  rest  struck  northward,  with 
my  daughter  and  myself  as  prisoners,  mounted  on 
Pancho,  my  own  stallion — an  Indian  riding  on  either 
side  of  us.  "We  halted  behind  the  sand  hills  at  noon, 
where  the  Apaches  had  cached  a  keg  of  whisky. 
While  they  were  gathered  about  it  drinking,  I 
snatched  a  carbine  from  the  one  Apache  left  to 
guard  us,  clubbed  him  from  his  horse,  and  started 
Pancho  off.  Taking  you  two  for  the  advance  guard 
of  a  wagon  train,  I  turned  his  head  toward  you." 

As  though  suddenly  remembering  her  disordered 
hair,  Dolly  withdrew  herself  a  little  from  her  fa- 
ther's side,  and  began  to  plait  the  heavy  masses  into 
a  long  braid.  William  laid  his  rifle  across  his 
knees  and  seemed  absorbed  in  thought. 

"  If  they'd  brung  their  whisky  with  'em,  there'd 
be  a  chance  of  givin'  'em  the  slip  before  mornin'. 
Once  let  a  Injun  git  at  liker  and  he  never  stops 
short  of  a  reg'lar  drunk,"  he  said,  vainly  endeavor- 
ing to  peer  over  the  cliff  "without  exposing  himself. 
But  the  fire  had  been  built  close  in  to  the  butte  at 
one  side,  so  that  the  Apaches  could  watch  the  only 
way  of  descent. 

"  Perhaps  they've  sent  that  fellow  after  it,"  sug- 
gested Tom. 

He  pointed  to  a  solitary  Indian  rider,  who  had 
made  a  long  detour  around  the  bluff,  so  as  to  keep 


26  THAT  TEEASUKE. 

well  out  of  range,  and  was  galloping  off  toward  the 
distant  line  of  sandhills. 

"Mebbe  they  hev,"was  the  animated  reply. 

Then  William,  struck  with  a  sudden  idea,  born  of 
an  appetite  which  even  on  ordinary  occasions  was 
something  astonishing,  laid  aside  his  rifle.  After 
fumbling  in  the  leather  haversack  slung  at  his  side, 
he  produced  a  ball  of  fish  line,  with  a  tolerably  large 
hook  and  sinker  attached. 

"  The  las'  time  I  went  fishin',"  he  said,  reflectively, 
as  the  three  regarded  him  with  inquiring  eyes, 
"  was  up  'n  the  Santy  Hose  mount'ns  for  trout.  Now 
I'm  goin*  to  try  for  antelope." 

Without  making  further  explanation,  he  crawled 
cautiously  from  the  plateau,  upon  a  narrow  ledge  of 
sandstone  extending  along  the  curves  of  the  fantas- 
tically shaped  butte.  Wriggling  himself  carefully 
along  the  natural  shelf,  with  his  body  pressed  close 
against  the  rock,  he  crept  forward  inch  by  inch. 

Peering  cautiously  over,  William  found  himself 
directly  above  some  half  a  dozen  squatting  Apaches, 
who  were  watching  with  hungry  eyes  several  slices 
of  broiling  antelope  steak. 

"Prospects  of  a  ketch  looks  small,"  discontentedly 
muttered  William,  who  grew  hungrier  as  he  snuffed 
the  tempting  fumes  beneath  him. 

Suddenly  his  eye  was  attracted  to  a  solitary  horse- 
man, approaching  at  a  hard  gallop  from  the  sand 
hills.  As  he  discovered  a  small  black  object  in  front 
of  the  rider's  saddle,  he  chuckled  silently. 

"  The  kag,"  he  muttered. 

At  that  moment  there  came  a  sharp  report  and 
puff  of  smoke  from  the  plateau,  which  caused  the 
Apaches  about  the  fire  to  spring  to  their  feet.  A 
yell  arose  from  those  standing  about  the  tethered 
horses,  as  they  saw  the  distant  Indian  reel  in  the 
saddle,  and  drop  to  the  ground. 


THAT  TKEASUKE.  27 

"  Three  hundred  yards  if  it's  an  inch,"  admiringly 
murmured  William;  "that  boy '11  make  his  mark 
some  day,  an'  don't  you  forgit  it." 

There  was  a  sudden  and  general  stampede  of  all 
the  Apaches,  apparently  toward  the  fallen  keg,  and 
not  the  wounded  Indian. 

Now  was  William's  opportunity.  Dropping  his 
line  down  the  almost  perpendicular  face  of  the 
butte,  he  began  angling  for  the  antelope  steak  with 
such  marked  success  that,  before  the  Apaches 
returned  with  their  fire  water,  he  had  secured  it  all. 

Then,  holding  the  meat  in  one  hand,  he  worked 
himself  back  to  the  plateau. 

Even  Mr.  Sherard  smiled  as  William  exhibited 
his  catch,  and  remarked  that  the  only  real  drawback 
to  the  success  of  the  whole  affair  was  his  inability 
to  witness  the  Apaches'  astonishment  and  wrath, 
when  the  loss  of  their  supper  should  be  discov- 
ered. 

Dolly  was  accommodated  with  a  bit  of  flat  sand- 
stone and  a  hunting  knife,  while  the  others  adopted 
the  primitive  method  of  eating  prevalent  before 
knives  and  forks  came  into  fashion.  Thus  refreshed 
in  body,  the  little  company  eagerly  watched  the  fad- 
ing away  of  the  last  beams  of  sunset,  and  the  swift 
fall  of  the  dusky  twilight 

William  and  Tom  sat  watching  the  ascent  with 
cocked  rifles,  lest  in  their  drunken  frenzy  the  red- 
skins should  attempt  another  reckless  dash  up  the 
butte. 

The  whisky  was  maddening  the  Apaches,  to  judge 
from  the  hideous  shrieks  and  yells  which  rose  to 
their  ears,  growing  louder  and  more  violent  as  the 
evening  wore  on.  By  crawling  a  little  way  out  on 
the  narrow  edge  and  craning  his  neck  forward, 
William  managed  to  get  a  tolerably  correct  idea  of 
the  situation. 


28  THAT  TREASURE. 

Half  a  dozen  Apaches  were  dancing  madly  around 
the  fire.  Two  or  three  lay  wrapped  iu  their  blankets, 
snoring  in  drunken  slumber,  while  the  soberest  of 
the  band  had  been  detailed  to  watch  the  ascent  to 
the  plateau.  Sitting  half  hidden  by  a  projecting 
bowlder,  with  his  carbine  within  reach,  the  red 
skinned  guard,  gravely  and  with  evident  relish,  ap- 
plied himself  to  the  contents  of  a  tin  cup. 

A  large  fire  had  been  kindled  at  the  foot  of  the 
rocky  ascent,  so  as  to  betray  any  attempt  at  escape 
on  the  part  of  the  besieged.  It  lit  up  the  scene 
with  a  weird,  flickering  light. 

Gradually  the  sounds  of  revelry  from  below  began 
to  subside.  The  excited  shouts  died  down  to  gut- 
tural mutterings  and  occasional  snores. 

As  the  indications  of  watchfulness  died  gradually 
away,  William,  after  whispering  to  Tom,  rose  to  his 
feet  and  laid  aside  his  rifle.  Tom  did  the  same,  with 
a  glance  at  Dolly,  who,  worn  out  with  excitement 
and  fatigue,  had  fallen  asleep  with  her  head  in  her 
father's  lap. 

"  Tom  an'  I  are  goin'  to  try  fer  the  horses,"  said 
William,  in  a  rapid  undertone;  "  an*  if  all  goes  well, 
when  I  toss  a  bit  of  rock  up  here  for  a  signal,  jine 
us.  Bring  your  girl,  and  the  guns,  which  we've  got 
to  leave  so's  to  hev  the  use  of  both  han's.  If  things 
go  crooked,"  he  added,  in  a  lower  tone,  "  hold  out  as 
long  as  you  can." 

In  another  moment  William  and  his  young  asso- 
ciate had  disappeared  in  the  darkness.  Stealthily 
and  noiselessly  they  crept  down  the  incline,  keeping 
as  far  as  possible  in  the  shadow. 

Not  a  sound  was  heard  except  the  stertorous 
breathing  of  the  drunken  redskins,  varied  by  an  oc- 
casional snort  or  snore,  as  they  lay  around  the  fur- 
ther fire.  It  had  now  burned  down  to  smoldering' 
embers,  while  the  other  was  kept  alive  by  the  soli- 


THAT  TREASURE.  29 

tary  guard,  who  was  drowsily  sitting  behind  a 
bowlder. 

Gliding  softly  past  the  blaze,  the  two  stole 
through  the  darkness  to  the  rear  of  the  sleeping 
sentinel.  With  a  spring  as  quick  and  noiseless  as  a 
mountain  tiger,  William  clutched  the  throat  of  the 
unfortunate  Apache  in  his  sinewy  fingers,  and  bore 
him  backward  to  the  ground,  while  Tom  threw  him- 
self bodily  on  the  prostrate  form  of  the  struggling 
savage. 

So  carefully  had  everything  been  planned  that  be- 
fore the  Indian  had  time  to  wonder  whether  this  un- 
expected assault  was  a  nightmare  resulting  from 
bad  whisky,  or  a  horrible  reality,  he  was  lying  be- 
hind the  bowlder  with  ankles  and  wrists  knotted 
tightly  together.  A  strip  of  his  ragged  blanket 
was  bound  over  his  mouth  and  nostrils,  and  his  en- 
tire head  enveloped  in  the  remainder  of  the  garment. 

"So  far  so  good,"  whispered  William;  "npw  for 
the  hosses." 

Trembling  with  excitement,  Tom  took  the  Apache's 
carbine  and  haversack  of  cartridges,  and  followed 
softly  at  William's  heels.  The  stallion  with  their 
own  broncos  were  picketed  a  little  apart  from  the 
others,  while  their  saddles  and  bridles  lay  in  a  pile 
at  the  foot  of  the  butte. 

While  Tom  saddled  the  horses  with  trembling 
fingers,  William  crammed  his  haversack  with  a  few  of 
the  stores  which  had  formed  part  of  the  pack  mule's 
load.  Gliding  away  in  the  gloom,  he  returned  a 
few  minutes  later  with  an  Indian  pony  saddled  and 
bridled. 

"For  Miss  Dolly,"  he  muttered;  "her  father  says 
she  can  ride  any  hoss  as  ever  was  foaled." 

William  cautiously  led  the  horses  round  to  the 
opposite  side  of  the  butte.  Then  he  returned,  and 
made  the  signal  agreed  upon. 


30  THAT  TBEASUBE. 

Out  of  the  gloom  appeared  the  tall  form  of  Mr. 
Sherard,  carrying1  the  rifles,  with  Dolly  at  his  side. 
Obeying  William's  mute  gesture,  they  followed  him 
to  the  spot  where  Tom  was  awaiting  them  with  the 
horses. 

Swinging  Dolly  to  the  pony's  saddle,  Mr.  Sherard 
mounted  Pancho,  while  Tom  and  William  sprang 
exultingly  to  the  backs  of  their  steeds. 

The  night  was  intensely  dark,  with  a  heavy  sultri- 
ness in  the  air,  an  electric  glow  glimmering  at  in- 
tervals on  the  northwestern  horizon.  It  revealed 
the  tops  of  the  low  mountain  range,  and  gave  Will- 
iam his  bearings.  Starting  the  horses  into  a  slow 
walk  for  a  few  moments,  the  little  cavalcade,  who 
as  \et  had  not  exchanged  a  word,  was  again  in  mo- 
tion. 

Suddenly  from  out  of  the  darkness  behind  them 
rose  a  hubbub,  followed  by  a  yell  so  fiendish  and 
blood  curdling,  that  even  William  felt  a  slight 
shiver  pass  through  him  as  it  was  repeated  again 
and  again. 

"  Give  'em  rein,"  he  said  in  a  low  tone,  and  in  an- 
other moment  the  fugitives  began  a  wild  gallop 
through  the  gloom.  Tom  Dean  at  least  will  remem- 
ber it  to  his  dying  day. 

"  There  ain't  no  danger  of  bein'  chased  by  more'n 
two  or  three  at  the  best,"  cried  William,  urging  his 
own  bronco  to  greater  speed;  "for  when  I  got  the 
pony  fer  Miss  Dolly  I  cut  ev'ry  lariat  I  could  reach, 
an'  ten  to  one  the  yells  stampeded  the  hull  ca- 
boodle of  the  loose  ones."  And  such  eventually 
proved  to  be  the  case. 

On  and  still  on  through  the  darkness  !  Woe  to 
the  horse  and  rider  should  the  flying  steed  stumble 
in  a  gopher  hole,  or  get  mired  in  an  alkali  slough, 
whose  embrace  is  certain  death. 

Flashes  of  lightning  begin  to  light  up  the  arched 


THAT  TEEASUKE.  9) 

heavens  and  the  wide  plain  beneath,  while  the 
heavy  rumble  of  thunder  seems  to  shake  the  sul- 
phurous air.  And  now  the  quick  foe  tfall  of  horse- 
men in  pursuit  is  heard  in  the  distance. 

"  Thar's  only  three,  Tom,  an*  I'll  take  care  of  them 
easy,"  exultingly  called  William,  as  by  a  flash  his 
quick  eye  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  trio  of  Indian 
riders  within  a  hundred  yards  or  so. 

"Indeed,  you  will  not!"  warmly  returned  Mr. 
Sherard,  reining  up  Pancho.  At  the  same  moment 
William  and  Tom  checked  their  steeds.  "  I  have  a 
carbine  now,  and " 

Mr.  Sherard  did  not  finish.  A  vivid  glare  of 
lightning,  illumining  the  plain  for  a  brief  moment 
with  its  unearthly  glare,  gave  two  individuals  an 
opportunity  for  what  William  called  a  "  snap  shot." 

One  was  William  himself;  he  dropped  an  Apache 
by  his  fire.  The  other  was  one  of  the  two  remain- 
ing Indians;  the  ball  from  his  carbine  pierced  poor 
Pancho's  broad  chest. 

The  stallion  reared;  and  scarcely  had  Mr.  Sher- 
ard time  to  clear  his  foot  from  the  stirrup,  when 
Pancho  gave  the  plaintive,  half  human  cry  of  a 
horse  when  wounded  unto  death,  and  fell  heavily 
over  on  his  side. 

At  the  same  moment,  one  of  the  Indian  ponies 
in  the  distance  neighed  loudly,  once,  twice,  thrice. 

An  answering  neigh  came  from  the  pony  which 
Dolly  was  riding;  it  suddenly  wheeled,  and  before 
she  could  slip  from  its  back  it  had  seized  the  bit  be- 
tween its  strong  teeth,  and  broken  into  a  mad  run 
in  the  direction  of  its  sympathizing  equine  rela- 
tive. 

Mr.  Sherard  was  just  picking  himself  up,  a  little 
dazed  by  his  fall,  and  William  was  pushing  a  cart- 
ridge into  place.  Tom  was  first  to  see  the  danger 
which  threatened  the  young  girL 


32  THAT  TKEASURE. 

"Jump  off,  Miss  Dolly,"  he  yelled,  clappiEg1  ins 
heels  to  the  side  of  his  own  bronco,  and  starting  off 
in  full  pursuit,  "jump  off!" 

But  Dolly,  whose  equestrian  experience  on  the 
ranch  had  made  her  an  excellent  horsewoman,  knew 
it  was  not  safe  to  do  so  at  such  a  rate  of  speed.  She 
vainly  sawed  at  the  mouth  of  the  obstinate  brute, 
hoping  to  check  his  onward  course. 

As  Dolly's  pony,  with  a  whinny  of  delight,  re- 
gained the  side  of  its  equine  acquaintance,  another 
broad  glare  of  lightning  made  visible  four  distinct 
pictures,  in  one  and  the  same  instant. 

The  one,  an  Apache  with  a  fiendish  grin,  twining 
his  brawny  arm  about  the  slender  waist  of  a  terrified 
girl,  and  pulling  her  from  the  saddle. 

The  second,  his  copper  faced  companion,  with  his 
cheek  laid  against  the  butt  of  a  short  cavalry  car- 
bine, whose  muzzle  was  aimed  directly  at  Tom's 
breast. 

The  third,  Tom  himself,  rising  in  his  stirrups 
with  his  clubbed  rifle  held  in  both  hands  and  swing- 
ing over  his  head,  as  he  dashed  his  bronco  full  tilt 
at  the  would  be  abductor. 

And  the  fourth  was  William  himself,  sitting  erect 
upon  his  pony,  fifty  paces  away;  his  eye  glancing 
along  the  polished  rifle  barrel  which  was  pointed  at 
the  second  Apache;  and  his  finger  pressing  the  trig- 
ger just  as  the  blinding  glare  was  followed  by  in- 
tense darkness,  and  a  thunder  peal  which  drowned 
the  report  of  carbine  and  rifle. 

One  Apache  dropped  like  a  stone,  with  a  ball 
through  his  brain.  The  muzzle  of  his  carbine, 
jerked  upwards,  sent  its  leaden  missile  searing 
across  the  fleshy  part  of  Tom's  arm,  though  in  his 
excitement  he  did  not  even  notice  it. 

Down  came  the  heavy  butt  of  Tom's  rifle  full  on 
the  Apache's  shaven  skull;  and  Dolly  slid  to  th« 


THAT  TREASURE.  3S 

earth  unharmed,  as  his  lifeless  form  toppled  from 
the  saddle  on  the  other  side. 

"  Tom,"  said  William,  who  was  the  first  to  reach 
the  spot  and  who  took  in  the  situation  with  a  glance, 
"  you're  an  ornament  to  your  sect,  an'  I'm  proud  of 
you — shake  !" 

But  Tom  was  otherwise  engaged.  For  Dolly  had 
already  taken  one  of  his  hands  in  her  own,  and  with 
eyes  full  of  tears  was  trying  to  convey  her  sense  of 
gratitude. 

And  before  she  could  muster  words  adequate  to 
the  occasion,  Mr.  Sherard  was  grasping  the  other 
hand  with  similar  utterances. 

So,  seeing  that  Tom's  hands  were  literally  full, 
"William,  the  very  practical,  secured  the  two  carbines 
belonging  to  the  dead  Indians,  and  at  once  pro- 
ceeded to  batter  them  out  of  shape  on  the  nearest 
bowlder.  Then  he  secured  all  the  cartridges  he 
could  find,  and  turned  one  of  the  Indian  ponies 
adrift,  reserving  for  Mr.  Sherard  the  one  which  had 
so  nearly  brought  about  Miss  Dolly's  recapture. 

His  saddle  was  exchanged  for  the  one  taken  from 
poor  Pancho,  and  they  again  remounted.  The 
glare  of  the  lightning  was  now  passing  off;  it  had 
been  the  precursor  of  a  few  heavy  drops,  but  noth- 
ing more. 

The  little  party  pressed  forward  until  the  gleams 
of  approaching  dawn  brought  them  to  a  haven  of 
comparative  safety. 


THAT  TREASURE/ 


CHAPTEE  V. 

BONANZA     CITY, 

THE  contrast  between  the  black  darkness  of  the 
night  and  the  splendor  of  the  sunrise  was  scarcely 
more  marked  than  that  between  their  surroundings 
of  the  previous  day  and  those  revealed  by  the  morn- 
ing light. 

They  had  left  the  arid  plain,  with  its  sand  hills 
and  sandstone  bluffs,  for  a  rolling  prairie  land, 
blazing  with  wild  verbenas,  petunias,  portulaccas, 
asters  and  gorgeous  poppies. 

Meadow  larks  sang  and  upland  plover  piped; 
black  and  white  magpies  croaked,  and  sand  hill  cranes 
soared  silently  overhead. 

The  dense  green  cf  the  buffalo  grass  alternated 
with  high  hillocks  covered  with  shrubs  of  various 
kinds,  sheltering  the  long  legged  jack  rabbits  and 
barking  marmots,  while  under  the  very  feet  of  the 
horse  scuttled  sage  hens  and  prairie  grouse  by 
scores. 

"The  high  breeze  that  riz  jest  before  sun  up  set 
the  sand  flyin'  so  our  tracks  are  covered  six  inches 
deep  before  this,  an'  now  all  the  Apaches  in  Arizony 
couldn't  track  us." 

Such  was  "William's  cheering  announcement,  as 
they  reached  the  banks  of  a  deep,  swift  running 
creek.  Here  a  halt  was  ordered. 

The  horses  were  unsaddled,  and  picketed  under 


THAT  TEEASUEE.  35 

the  cotton  woods.  Then  a  fire  was  kindled;  care 
being  taken  to  gather  the  driest  branches  of  the 
willow  and  cottonwood,  which  made  a  clear  hot 
blaze,  unaccompanied  by  perceptible  smoke. 

William  utilized  his  fishing  line,  with  large  lo- 
custs for  bait,  and  pulled  from  the  stream  two  dozen 
good  sized  trout  in  half  as  many  minutes. 

Having  cleaned  them,  Mr.  Sherard  wrapped  each 
fish  in  a  coating  of  moist  clay,  and  laid  them  in  the 
glowing  embers.  When  thoroughly  baked,  the 
dried  clay  was  removed,  and  revealed  the  sweet 
white  flesh  divested  of  skin  and  scales. 

Salt  was  furnished  from  William's  haversack,  and 
plates  were  made  of  bark.  Then  breakfast  was  an- 
nounced. 

Tom  came  up  from  the  stream,  his  crisp  black 
hair  shining  with  water  drops.  The  dust  and  pow- 
der smoke  had  been  scrubbed  off,  and  his  black  silk 
handkerchief  retied;  shirt  and  overalls  had  been 
brushed,  and  the  alkali  soil  removed  from  his  moc- 
casins. With  his  fine  figure,  regular  bronzed  feat- 
ures, and  erect  carriage,  Tom  Dean  was  worthy  of  a 
second  look. 

So  too  was  Dolly.  Her  heavy  hair  was  braided 
afresh,  and  drawn  away  from  her  brunette  face,  with 
its  jetty  eyebrows,  deep  dark  eyes,  arched  mouth, 
and  dimpled  chin.  Her  dress  of  dark  blue  flannel 
had  been  shaken  into  something  like  order,  and 
from  under  the  folds  of  the  skirt  peeped  the  tips  of 
a  pair  of  dainty  little  beaded  moccasins.  Dolly  was 
deserving,  indeed,  of  more  than  a  second  look,  and 
as  she  seated  herself  at  her  father's  side,  she  re- 
ceived a  glance  of  open  admiration  from  William, 
and  one  of  shy  respect  from  Tom. 

After  the  repast  William  proceeded  to  fill  a  cob 
pipe,  while  Mr.  Sherard  solaced  himself  with  a  cig- 
arette. "If  we'd  had  the  utensils,"  remarked  the 


36  THAT  TREASURE, 

former,  "  I'd  a  brewed  a  pot  o'  coffee,  for  I've  got 
nigh  a  pound  in  my  haversack.  But  there's  utensils 
in  plenty  where  Tom  an'  I  is  bound " 

"  Where  is  that  ?"  inquired  Mr.  Sherard,  with  a 
sudden  show  of  interest.  For  it  had  suddenly  oc- 
curred to  him  that  it  might  be  well  to  begin  to 
make  some  plans  for  the  return  of  himself  and  Dolly 
to  civilization. 

"  Bonanza  City,"  replied  William,  gravely,  "  where 
a  couple  o'  years  or  so  ago  me  and  a  pardner  made 
twenty  five  thousand  dollars  inside  of  six  months. 
Great  place  for  money  makin',  is  Bonanza  City,"  he 
added,  with  a  reflective  nod. 

Mr.  Sherard,  who  had  never  heard  of  the  city  in 
question,  was  interested  at  once. 

"  How  far  is  it  from  here,  and  what  is  the  princi- 
pal business  ?"  he  asked,  quickly. 

"  Twenty  odd  mile — minin',"  was  the  double  bar- 
reled reply  to  both  questions. 

"It  seems  singular  that  I  never  heard  of  it,"  said 
Mr.  Sherard,  musingly.  But  then  he  reflected  that 
in  his  own  ranch  he  had  done  little  else  but  bury 
himself  in  his  library  of  books,  and  taken  no  great 
interest  in  the  building  up  of  the  country. 

"  On  what  line  of  road  is  Bonanza  City  ?"  he  again 
inquired. 

"  Wall,  the  branch  line  from  the  Southern  Pacific 
ain't  put  through  yet,"  replied  William,  puffing  vig- 
orously at  his  pipe. 

"  I  think  that,  with  your  permission,  Dolly  and  I 
had  better  accompany  you  to  Bonanza  City,"  Mr. 
Sherard  remarked,  after  a  moment's  thought.  "In- 
deed I  see  no  other  resource,  situated  as  we  are 
now." 

Neither  did  William,  for  the  nearest  fort,  trading 
post,  or  line  of  railroad  was  at  least  a  hundred  miles 
away.  And  he  so  stated. 


THAT  TREASUKE.  37 

While  this  conversation  was  going  on,  Tom  and 
Dolly  were  beginning  to  get  better  acquainted  with 
each  other,  Tom  Dean's  association  with  the  oppo- 
site sex  had  been  extremely  limited.  His  mother  he 
could  not  remember  at  all,  though  he  often  dreamed 
of  a  tender  and  beautiful  face  which  bent  over  his 
pillow  with  loving  words .  The  features  were  always 
the  same,  and  gradually  they  had  become  photo- 
graphed, so  to  speak,  on  his  mental  vision. 

Tom  was  now  almost  for  the  first  time  thrown  into 
the  society  of  pure  young  girlhood;  and,  though 
naturally  somewhat  shy  and  reticent,  the  very  pe- 
culiar circumstances  of  their  meeting  broke  down 
this  feeling. 

Almost  before  he  knew  it,  Dolly  was  listening 
with  eager  interest  while  he  told  her  of  his  early 
life — the  professor's  loving  care,  his  tragic  death, 
and  Tom's  meeting  with  William. 

In  turn  Dolly  spoke  freely  of  her  own  and  her  fa- 
ther's experiences.  They  had  lived  in  New  York  be- 
fore the  death  of  her  mother,  a  Spanish  lady  whom 
Mr  Sherard  had  met  in  his  travels.  Then  came  the 
loss  of  Mr.  Sherard's  fortune.  With  what  was  left 
after  a  settlement  with  his  creditors,  he  came  West 
with  his  daughter,  leaving  her  at  a  school  in  St. 
Ijouis,  while  he  prepared  a  home  in  the  far  off  wild- 
erness, where  he  hoped  to  retrieve  his  fallen  fort- 
unes by  stock  raising. 

So  the  two  chatted  together  till  the  horses  had 
eaten  tlieir  fill  of  the  nutritious  buffalo  grass  and 
another  start  was  made. 

Their  course  now  lay  due  north,  directly  along 
the  bed  of  the  deep  and  brawling  stream.  Steadily 
ouward  they  went,  gradually  rising  towards  the 
wooded  hills  of  a  high  divide,  whose  summits, 
fringed  with  a  heavy  growth,  were  bathed  in  the 
soft  splendor  of  the  setting  sun.  Suddenly,  as  they 


38  THAT  TEEASUKE. 

emerged  from  a  narrow  belt  of  woodland,  there  lay 
before  them  a  somewhat  extensive  settlement. 

"  Thar,"  said  William,  pointing  forward  with  an 
air  of  extreme  satisfaction;  "that's  Bonanza  City! 
A  pootier  location  was  never  seen  nowheres  this 
side  the  Rockies;  good  water,  drainage,  an'  all  the 
modern  c'nveniences;  without  the  improvements, 
which'll  come  in  time — if  nothin'  happ'ns." 

But  no  one  heard  the  concluding  words,  uttered 
in  a  whisper.  Mr.  Sherard  was  gazing  rather 
blankly  at  the  collection  of  one  story  board  houses 
and  shanties,  with  here  and  there  a  more  pretentious 
structure  of  adobe  or  sun  dried  brick.  Even  at 
that  distance  he  saw  that  the  buildings  were  weather 
beaten  and  out  of  repair,  some  being  unroofed  and 
others  in  ruins. 

Dolly  looked  bewildered,  yet  amused.  As  for 
Tom,  it  seemed  to  him  that  he  had  seen  it  all  as  in  a 
dream  before. 

"But — er — I  don't  see  any  signs  of  the  inhabit- 
ants," exclaimed  Mr.  Sherard,  pushing  back  the  silk 
handkerchief  which  was  tied  about  his  head  in  lieu 
of  a  hat. 

And  a  nearer  approach  developed  the  fact  that 
the  one  street  of  Bonanza  City  was  completely  de- 
serted. 

"Well,  the  fac'  is,"  replied  William,  for  the  first 
time  showing  some  slight  trace  of  embarrassment, 
"the  citizens  is  kinder  wan  tin'  in  Bonanza  City. 
But  that's  ruther  an  advantage  than  otherwise,  as 
the  bulk  of  the  bizness  will  fall  into  our  hands.  The 
fac'  is,  Mr.  Sherard,"  he  went  on,  "  four  years  ago  a 
couple  of  prospectors  struck  a  rich  pay  streak  in 
yonder  gulch.  B'ildin's  went  up,  an'  things  was 
boomin',  when  all  at  once  the  pay  streaks  failed,  an' 
ev'rybody  lit  out  fer  new  diggin's.  Me  an'  my  pard- 
ner  was  on  the  prospect  a  couple  o'  years  after,  an* 


THAT  TKEASTJKE.  39 

struck  the  city  standin'  as  you  see  it — not  a  livin* 
soul  but  us.  We  had  a  streak  of  luck  uucommon 
for  these  days,  and  then  came  the  Apaches.  They 
carried  me  off,  and  what  come  to  Bob  and  the  gold 
I  never  knowed.  I've  come  here  to  hev  another 
look  for  my  los*  gol'  dust,"  William  went  on,  "  for 
somehow  I've  got  it  inter  my  head  that  it's  here  in 
Bonanza  City.  Them  as  helps  me  find  it  will  share 
with  me.  Failin*  in  this,  I  propose  makin'  search 
fur  a  pay  streak.  There's  a  good  head  o'  water, 
sluice  boxes  an'  ev'rything  ready  for  work  on  a  small 
scale — an'  there's  gold  here  somewheres  in  big  lots, 
else  I'm  no  jedge  of  signs.  If  you  wanter  cast  yer 
lot  here  a  spell,  along  of  Tom  an*  me,  Mr.  Sherard, 
well  and  good;  thar's  a  chance  fur  you  to  make  a 
pile  as  well  as  the  rest  of  us." 

"  Well,  Dolly,  what  do  you  say  ?"  asked  Mr.  Sher- 
ard, whose  brow  had  gradually  cleared  as  he  lis- 
tened to  William's  brief  but  forcible  argument. 
His  hopeful  mind  had  already  begun  to  cherish 
dreams  of  success  in  this  new  and  unexpected  vent- 
ure. 

"Tour  wishes  are  mine,  father;  I  am  happy 
wherever  you  are,"  was  the  cheerful  reply.  And 
the  matter  was  settled. 

A  rude  bridge  spanned  the  stream,  and,  having 
crossed  it  in  silence,  William  commanded  a  halt. 
The  last  beams  of  the  sun  bathed  the  deserted 
buildings  and  grass  grown  street  in  a  flood  of  yel- 
low light,  as  though  prophetic  of  a  golden  future. 

*'  Gentlemen  and  ladies,"  said  William,  "  allow  me 
as  a — a— original  discoverer  to  welcome  the  new 
colernists  to  Bonanza  City." 

On  the  right  hand  side  of  the  street,  beyond  the 
bridge,  stood  what  had  evidently  served  as  the 
hotel.  Unlike  most  of  the  other  buildings,  it  was 
two  stories  high,  with  a  flat,  sloping  roof,  in  toler- 


40  THAT  TEEASUEE. 

able  repair.  On  a  creaking  sign  board  attached  to 
a  post  the  word  "  Retreat "  was  still  faintly  discern- 
ible. 

"We'll  stop  to  the  best  hotel  tonight,"  gravely 
remarked  William,  as  the  little  party  dismounted. 
"  I'll  take  care  of  the  horses  an'  look  out  for  some- 
thin*  for  supper.  When  me  an'  Bob  Cope  was  here 
we  used  to  do  our  cookin'  in  the  kitchin,  owin'  to  its 
havin'  the  only  cook  stove  thar  was  in  town.  Bar- 
rin'  rust,  I  guess  you'll  find  things  all  right." 

"  How  gloomy  and  dismal  it  seems,"  said  Dolly, 
with  a  little  shiver,  clinging  to  her  father's  arm. 

The  two  followed  Tom  through  the  deserted 
house,  where  dust  and  damp  reigned  supreme,  to 
the  kitchen  at  the  rear. 

Tom  did  not  reply.  Stopping  in  the  middle  of 
the  room  they  had  reached,  he  looked  about  him 
and  uttered  an  exclamation  of  astonishment. 

The  kitchen  of  the  Retreat  was  a  good  sized  room. 
The  rough  board  sides,  which  had  once  been  white- 
washed, were  papered  with  copies  of  mining  jour- 
nals and  prospectuses  of  mining  towns.  A  neatly 
blacked  cook  stove  stood  at  the  rear,  and  a  pine 
table,  scrubbed  smooth  and  white,  was  at  one  side. 
There  were  rude  stools,  and  a  wooden  cupboard  dis- 
played quite  an  array  of  bright  tin  ware  cooking 
utensils,  and  even  crockery. 

There  was  fuel  by  the  stove,  matches  in  a  sardine 
box,  and  a  candle  in  a  tin  sconce  nailed  against  the 
wall 

"  I  don't  understand  why  everything  looks  so  neat 
in  this  kitchen,"  said  Dolly,  as  Tom  proceeded  to 
light  the  candle;  "one  would  almost  think  some 
person  had  left  it  only  this  morning,  instead  of  two 
years  ago.  Why,  the  stove  looks  as  though  it  had 
just  been  blacked,  and  there  isn't  a  sign  of  damp 
anywhere." 


THAT  TEEASUKE.  41 

"It  is  probably  owing  to — er — the  preservative 
effect  of  the  rarefied  atmosphere,  Dolly,"  returned 
Mr.  Sherard,  who  was  beginning  to  lay  a  fire  in  the 
stove. 

Tom  secretly  wondered  if  the  rarefied  atmosphere 
was  the  cause  of  the  entire  absence  of  dust  and  cob- 
webs, and  whether  it  had  anything  to  do  with  a  pe- 
culiar pungent  smell,  as  of  some  recently  burning 
drug,  which  he  had  noticed  on  first  entering.  But 
he  made  no  remark.  Very  soon  a  cheerful  blaze 
was  started  in  the  stove,  and  the  place  began  to  take 
on  a  singularly  home-like  look. 

Presently  William  appeared,  carrying  four  tins  of 
preserved  provisions  in  his  arms,  which  he  deposited 
on  the  taolc. 

"  Bob  Cope  an'  I  left  more'n  twenty  of  these  here 
cans,  to  mj  certin  knowledge,"  he  said,  with  a  per- 
plexed look,  "  but  all  I  could  find  in  the  ol'  place 
was  these  four.  I  don't  see,  for  the  life  of  me,  what's 
come  to  the  rest  of  'em.  How  quick  you've  slicked 
things  up,"  he  continued,  looking  about  in  evident 
surprise;  "why " 

"  We  found  everything  just  as  you  see  it,"  laughed 
Dolly,  who  had  already  begun  to  set  the  table, "  and 
it  shows  what  excellent  housekeepers  you  and  Mr. 
Cope  must  ha^e  been  to  leave  everything  in  such 
nice  order." 

William  scratched  his  head  thoughtfully,  but  made 
no  reply. 

"  No  signs  of  anythin'  stirrin'  anywheres  outside, 
wus  there,  Tom  ?"  he  asked,  with  a  shade  of  uneasi- 
ness, as  the  latter  entered  with  a  couple  of  buckets 
of  clear  river  water. 

"Only  a  couple  of  coyotes  skulking  across  the 
street,"  was  the  careless  reply.  A  little  later  a  very 
substantial  supper  was  prepared  and  eaten  with  a 
hearty  relish. 


42  THAT  TEEA.SUEE. 

"William  preserved  an  unwonted  silence  through- 
out the  meal.  When  the  table  was  cleared,  he 
lighted  another  candle,  and  went  up  stairs,  accom- 
panied by  Mr  Sherard,  to  see  what  were  the  sleep- 
ing accommodations. 

"Tom,"  suddenly  said  Dolly,  who  saw  no  impro- 
priety in  using  his  first  name,  "  did  you  ever  hear  or 
dream  of  anything  so  funny  as  all  this — four  of  us 
taking  possession  of  an  abandoned  hotel  in  a  town 
without  inhabitants " 

But  here  Dolly  stopped  suddenly  and  turned  quite 
pale.  And  no  wonder. 

For,  following  the  direction  of  her  startled  gaze, 
Tom  saw  standing  in  the  door  two  Chinamen,  of  un- 
commonly large  stature.  In  dress,  height  and 
physiognomy,  they  were  the  very  counterpart  of 
each  other. 

"  What  Melican  man  wantee  in  Chinaman  house  ?" 
said  one  of  them,  in  a  harsh,  threatening  voice,  as 
he  stepped  into  the  room,  followed  by  his  compan- 
ion. His  lean  hand  stole  significantly  under  the 
folds  of  his  blouse,  as  Tom  laid  his  hand  on  the  butt 
of  his  revolver. 

Instinctively  Dolly  drew  nearer  Tom,  for  there 
was  something  evil  and  repulsive  in  the  stealthy 
glance  which  each  had  given  her  from  their  small, 
beady  eyes. 

"  How  happens  it  to  be  your  house  ?"  asked  Tom, 
quietly. 

"  You  not  mind  that,"  said  the  other,  whose  voice 
was  exactly  the  same  as  that  of  the  first  speaker. 
•'  You  pay  us  for  use  dish,  use  stove — all  tings — den 
you  git  1"  and  the  Mongolian  speaker  pointed  to- 
wards the  door  he  had  just  entered,  while  his  com- 
panion stepped  forward,  with  an  ugly  smile. 

"  Melican  man  hab  plitty  sister;  Ah  Chow  much 
lub  plitty  gal,"  he  said,  insolently. 


THAT  TREASUKE.  43 

"  Don't  let  him  come  near  me,  Tom,"  whispered 
Dolly,  in  trembling  accents,  as  she  shrank  behind 
him. 

Trust  Tom  Dean  for  that !  Ah  Chow  was  nearly 
six  feet  tall,  and  of  heavy,  ungainly  frame,  but  as 
he  stretched  out  his  claw-like  hand  towards  Dolly, 
he  went  down  like  a  log  before  Tom's  muscular 
arm. 

Down  the  rickety  stairs  dashed  Mr.  Sherard,  fol- 
lowed by  William,  just  as  Ah  Chow's  associate  was 
lugging  a  clumsy  "  British  bull  dog  "  revolver  from 
beneath  his  blouse. 

But  at  the  sight  of  the  new  comers  the  China- 
man's sallow  face  took  an  ashy  hue.  Ah  Chow, 
who  had  scrambled  to  his  feet,  seemed  for  the 
moment  turned  to  stone,  like  an  ugly  idol. 

"  Why,  dern  your  yeller  skins,  Ah  Chow,  an*  you, 
Ah  Sin !"  wrathfully  roared  William,  banging  hia 
candle  on  the  table  and  throwing  his  right  hand  to 
his  hip;  "hev  you  forgot  what  Bob  Cope  an'  mo 
told  you  two  year  ago,  when  we  driv'  you  outer  the 
city  here  for  tryin*  to  murder  us  whilst  we  was 
asleep  ?" 

"  No  shootee,  William,"  shrieked  Ah  Sin,  in  a  high 
falsetto,  dodging  rapidly  behind  Ah  Chow;  "  all 
one  mistake.  We  s'pose  Injun  killee  you  both,  so 
we  come  back,  lib  in  dis  house.  No  shootee — we 
go  findee  'noder  house;  not  tlouble  Melican  mans 
any." 

"  It  won't  be  healthy  if  you  do,"  was  the  signifi- 
cant reply.  "Now,  see  here,"  he  went  on,  as  the 
two  began  shuffling  towards  the  door;  "  I  know  the 
pair  of  you,  root  an'  branch,  an'  you  know  me.  You 
find  some  other  house;  thar's  plenty  to  pick  an* 
choose  from.  Bob  Cope  an'  me  pre-empted  this 
here  hotel  before  you  two  cutthroats  ever  struck 
Bonanza  City,  an'  I've  got  the  prior  claim;  and 


44  THAT  TEEASUEE. 

there'll  be  a  watch  kep'  night  an'  day  in  these  here 
premises,  and  if  I  so  much  as  'spect  the  one  or 
t'other  of  you  of  attemptin'  any  trickery,  I'll  riddle 
the  pair  like  a  cullender — savey  ?" 

There  was  no  doubt  but  that  William's  forcible 
speech  was  fully  understood  by  the  two  Chinamen, 
who  murmured  something  unintelligible  and  sneaked 
towards  the  door.  But  before  passing  through  it 
Ah  Chow  raised  his  snaky  eyes,  with  a  look  of  evil 
directed  at  Tom,  and  touched  his  bruised  face  with 
his  finger  tip. 

"  Ah  Chow  not  forgit  dis,"  he  muttered,  and  was 
gone. 

"  Fd  ruther  a'  giv'  a  ten  ounce  bag  of  gol'  dust — 
if  I  had  it,"  said  William,  looking  blankly  at  the  si- 
lent group,  "than  that  Ah  Chow  an*  that  twin 
brother  of  his'n  should  hev  come  here  agin.  I  hoped 
they'd  a'  be'n  lynched  long  afore  this." 

"  Who  ure  they  ?"  asked  Mr.  Sherard,  in  evident 
disquietude. 

"  Two  of  the  wust  Chinymen  that  ever  struck  a 
minin'  kermunity,"  was  the  uncompromising  reply. 
"They  come  here  whilst  Bob  an' me  was  workin'  our 
claim  an'  begun  pannin'  out  dust  aloug  the  crik  in  a 
wash  basin.  As  they  kep'  their  end  of  the  town  an* 
we  ours,  Bob  nor  I  didn't  mind  'em.  But  by  sheer 
luck  we  found  'em  one  night  stowed  away  under  the 
ol'  broke  down  counter  in  what  was  the  bar  room, 
calc'latin*  to  do  for  us  whilst  we  was  asleep,  an' 
mosey  with  our  pile.  We  run  'em  acrost  the  bridge 
right  lively  with  a  promise  of  what  we'd  do  if  either 
of  'em.  come  within  shootin'  distance,  an'  jest  to 
show  what  we  meant,  I  shot  the  top  off'n  Ah  Sin's 
ear  whilst  he  was  runnin'.  But  111  keep  an  eye  on 
the  gen'lemen,"  said  William,  rising;  "an'  now  we'll 
kinder  git  ready  to  turn  in,  for  tomorrer  will  be  a 
busy  day  for  all  of  us,  not  omittin'  Miss  Dolly." 


THAT  TREASURE:  45 

There  were  several  canvas  cots  in  various  stages 
of  dilapidation  in  the  bare,  unfurnished  rooms  over- 
head, and  one  was  brought  down  and  placed  in  a 
small  room  opening  out  of  the  kitchen.  To  this 
were  added  a  pair  of  blankets  belonging  to  William, 
and  Miss  Dolly  was  provided  for. 

The  others,  who  kept  alternate  watches  till  dawn, 
contented  themselves  with  saddle  blankets  and  the 
grassy  turf  before  the  house,  using  the  saddles  as 
pillows. 


THAT  TRF.ASUBE. 


CHAPTER  VL 

BOB    COPE'S   MESSAGE   AKD  ITS   BESULTS. 

IT  was  Tom  dean  who  found  it. 

Not  the  missing  gold  dust,  but  some  information 
regarding  it,  which  came  about  in  this  wise. 

Tacked  against  the  boards  at  one  side  of  the 
former  dining  room  of  the  hotel,  Tom  had  noticed 
a  square  box  cover  of  brown  pasteboard,  which 
had  evidently  been  used  as  a  target  for  pistol  prac- 
tice. 

"Some  of  them  Chinamen's  shootin';  anybody 
with  half  an  eye  would  see  that,"  scornfully  re- 
marked William,  as  Tom  called  his  attention  to  it. 
"  How  do  I  know  ?  By  the  tracks  in  the  dust,  of 
course;  no  white  man  would  shoot  at  a  mark  only 
fifteen  feet  off,  to  say  nothin'  of  usin'  one  of  them 
clumsy,  self  cockin'  thirty  twos  that's  throwed  nigh 
ev'ry  shot  a  couple  o'  inches  above  the  box  kiver. 
Now  watch  the  nail  that  hoi's  the  kiver,"  he  said, 
pacing  off  the  length  of  the  room — some  forty  feet. 

Standing  with  his  back  towards  the  target,  and 
the  cocked  revolver  with  its  muzzle  dropped  toward 
the  floor,  "William  wheeled  suddenly  round,  throw- 
ing up  his  arm  at  the  same  instant. 

The  revolver  cracked  almost  before  William's  arm 
had  seemed  to  steady  itself.  The  ball  struck  the 
nail,  and  Tom  lifted  the  box  cover  from  the  floor 
with  an  exclamation  of  surprise. 


THAT  TREASURE.  4? 

"What's  the  matter?  Didn't  you  never  see  no 
pistol  shootin'  before  ?"  demanded  William,  mistak- 
ing the  cause  of  Tom's  amazement.  The  latter 
stood  gazing  at  the  pasteboard,  which  -was  covered 
with  rude  chirography,  evidently  done  with  a  very 
stumpy  lead  pencil. 

But  in  place  of  replying,  Tom  began  reading 
aloud  from  the  cover  a  message  which  I  give  below 
precisely  as  written  and  spelled: 

Dere  Pard— i  stick  this  up  whare  you  see  it  if  you  ever  cum 
bac  from  bein  Took  prisner  by  them  (a  bullet  hole  had  luckily 
cut  out  the  adjective)  'Paches,  fore  I  Got  the  bags  hid  they  was 
outer  site  in  the  Dark  Takin  you  along  of  em.  I  stade  bi  the 
shanty  a  weke  hopin  you  mite  giv  em  the  slip  I  cudent  find  the 
pay  streke  we  los,  But  wosht  out  a  few  ounces  frum  the  ol 
gravil  in  the  north  clame  i  was  Putin  it  Awa  that  evenin  in  the 
Hole  under  the  flore  with  the  rest  when  lookin  up  sudint  i  See 
them  Too  chinymen  agin  watchin  threw  the  winder  i  puld  an 
let  drive  but  tha  ski  pea.  i  knqwed  i  warnt  safe  There  so  nex 
morniii  i  packt  up  the  Mewil  with  The  dust  and  ower  Traps  and 
Lit  out  by  The  north  eas  Trale  fur  hqlcome  sant  cristofer 
county  whare  tbares  A  bank  And  This  is  To  sa  If  this  ever 
metes  yore  ize  that  if  i  git  safe  to  holcome  youle  Find  yore 
half  of  The  Pile  Deposit  in  yore  name  whitch  rufe  Dalas  or  the 
doo  Drop  salune  or  eny  of  the  boys  can  Identify  if  I  aint  thar 
hopin  you  air  Alive  an  Will  Fine  this  Notis  sum  da  i  am  yores 
Kobert  g  cope,  orgus  3  1878. 

"  An'  when  I  came  back  here  a  month  after  that 
was  writ,"  groaned  William,  "  to  hunt  for  Bob  an* 
the  dust,  I  was  in  an'  outer  here  fifty  times,  without 
ever  so  much  as  noticin'  that  box  kiver  agin'  the 
wall.  Why  didn't  Bob  leave  it  in  the  hidin'  place 
where  he  knowed  I'd  look  first  thing  ?" 

"  Why,  then  the  Chinamen  would  have  found  it, 
and  even  if  they  can't  read,  they  would  probably 
have  torn  it  up,"  suggested  Tom. 

"And  it  is  something  to  know  that  your  gold  dust 
is  safe  after  all,"  added  Mr.  Sherard,  who  had  en- 
tered while  Tom  was  reading  the  message. 

"If  Bob  ever  got  to  Holcomb,  a  good  hundred 
an'  forty  mile  away,  through  the  wust  kind  of 
kentry,"  returned  William,  gloomily, 


48  THAT  TKEASUEE. 

"  It's  no  use,"  he  continued,  after  a  short  pause;  "  I 
must  satisfy  my  mind  about  that  there  gol'  dust,  or 
I  shan't  rest  nights,  so  tomorrer  I'll  saddle  up  an' 
light  out  for  Holcomb." 

Expostulations  and  pleadings  were  of  no  avail. 
To  use  his  own  comparison,  "William  was  "setter'n 
any  mule  "  when  once  his  mind  was  made  up. 

"It's  no  great  ride,  any  way;  I  shall  be  back  in- 
side of  a  fortnight,  whether  I  find  what  I'm  after  or 
no,"  was  his  reply.  Seeing  him  so  determined  in 
purpose,  the  others  said  no  more. 

That  afternoon,  leaving  Mr.  Sherard  with  Dolly, 
William  and  Tom  revisited  the  scene  of  the  former's 
labors  with  Bob  Cope. 

On  the  eastern  side  of  the  sloping  valley  flowed 
Bonanza  River,  whose  frequent  falls  furnished  the 
necessary  head  of  water  for  separating  the  gravel 
from  the  gold. 

Running  parallel  with  it  were  scattered  the  ruins 
of  the  great  board  sluice  boxes  which  had  been 
abandoned  four  years  before.  From  these  frag- 
ments William  and  his  associate,  Bob  Cope,  had 
constructed  their  own  primitive  gold  washing  ap- 
paratus. 

"  But,  dern  my  fckin  1"  exclaimed  William,  indulg- 
ing in  his  favorite  expletive,  "  if  it  ain't  what  I've 
been  fearin'  since  I  knowed  them  Chinymen  had 
come  back.  They've  gone  to  work  in  my  ol'  claim 
as  big  as  life !" 

"  I  wouldn't  have  any  trouble  with  them,"  sug- 
gested Tom,  as  William  threw  forward  his  rifle  into 
the  hollow  of  his  left  arm,  and  suggestively  clasped 
the  stock  with  his  right  hand. 

"Oh,  I  shan't  hev  no  trouble,"  was  the  reply, 
uttered  in  anything  but  a  reassuring  tone.  As  he 
spoke  William  walked  rapidly  forward. 

"  Look  here,  you  two!"  he  called  loudly. 


THAT  TREASURE.  49 

Ah  Sin,  who  was  shoveling  gravel  into  the  upper 
part  of  the  sluice  box,  looked  up  quickly.  Ah  Chow, 
at  the  other  end,  did  the  same,  and  slid  his  hand 
into  the  breast  of  his  blouse. 

"Drop  that!"  shouted  William,  covering  him  with 
his  Winchester.  "Yank  your  hand  outer  your 
blouse,  Ah  Chow — empty,  mind — an"  keep  both  of 
'em  in  sight,  or  I'll  let  daylight  through  you!" 

"What  you  wantee  Chinaman  now?"  growled 
Ah  Chow,  who  obeyed  with  considerable  celerity. 

"I  want  you  two  to  git  outer  my  claim  right 
smart,"  was  the  sharp  reply;  "an'  mind,  if  I  ketch 
either  one  of  you  within  shootin'  distance  of  it  after 
this  you  know  what'll  happen." 

Knowing  something  of  mining  laws,  and  more  of 
William's  aptness  at  keeping  his  word,  Ah  Sin  and 
Ah  Chow  left  the  tools,  which  also  had  belonged  to 
William  and  Bob  Cope,  in  the  trench,  and  shuffled 
away,  taking  their  course  down  the  stream. 

"They  can  go  to  work  pannin'  out  by  hand  agin, 
for  they're  too  blamed  lazy  to  build  sluice  boxes  for 
themselves,"  said  William  as  he  watched  them  out 
of  sight.  Then  he  showed  Tom  the  workings  of  the 
primitive  sluice  way  in  which  he  and  Bob  Cope 
had  washed  out  a  small  fortune.  They  had  had 
the  luck  to  strike  an  uncommonly  rich  streak  of  pay 
dirt. 

It  consisted  of  a  series  of  long,  narrow,  gutter- 
like  boxes,  open  at  the  top;  the  upper  end,  where 
the  water  was  turned  in,  being  wider  and  higher 
than  the  other  extremity. 

All  along  the  bottom  were  nailed  wooden  blocks, 
packed  on  end  as  closely  as  possible.  These  not 
only  keep  the  bottom  of  the  trough  from  the  wear 
of  the  larger  pebbles,  but  hold  such  bits  of  gold  as 
may  fall  from  the  dissolving  clay  lumps. 

The  clay  is  shoveled  in  at  the  head  of  the  sluice 


60  THAT  TREASURE. 

box,  and  a  stream  of  water  turned  on,  which  forces 
it  through  the  boxes.  The  gold,  being  far  heavier 
than  the  rest,  remains  at  the  bottom,  and  is  collected 
after  the  run. 

"They  ain't  struck  no  pay  streak,"  remarked 
William,  after  carefully  examining  the  riffles  at  the 
bottom  of  the  box;  "an5  when  you  an'  Mr.  Sherard 
begin  to  try  your  luck,  shift  all  this  gearin'  up  the 
gulch,  say  forty  rods  or  so.  There's  a  good  fall 
thar  for  work,  but  afore  you  begin  operations  dig 
down  to  bed  rock  in  three  or  four  places,  an*  keep 
tryin'  the  gravel  this  way."  Scooping  a  handful 
of  soil  into  an  iron  prospecting  pan,  William  stepped 
to  the  edge  of  the  stream,  aud  proceeded  to  initiate 
Tom  into  the  mystery  of  hand  washing.  Various 
other  instructions  having  been  given,  the  two  re- 
turned to  the  retreat. 

"  And  what  part  am  I  to  play  in  all  this  ?"  asked 
Dolly,  as  after  supper  the  fonr  brought  stools  out 
on  the  stoop,  in  the  cool  of  the  evening.  They  were 
talking  over  the  plans  for  the  work  which  they  in- 
tended to  do  after  William's  departure. 

"  You're  goiii'  to  keep  house  for  one  thing,  Miss 
Dolly;  an'  beiu'  a  girl  of  pluck  and  backbone  ekal 
to  any  ever  I  see,  you're  goin*  to  keep  your  pa's  car- 
bine right  where  it'll  be  handy  whenever  the  men 
folks  is  outer  sight,"  replied  William. 

"  But  we  shall  not  be  out  of  sight  much,"  quietly 
remarked  Tom,  observing  the  shadow  of  uneasiness 
that  crossed  Dolly's  face,  "  for  I  noticed  that  from 
where  we  shall  begin  operations  in  the  morning,  we 
can  see  the  house  distinctly." 

"  Dolly  shall  come  with  us,  and  sit  in  the  shade 
with  her  sewing,  whenever  we  are  likely  to  get  out 
of  the  range  of  her  vision,"  interrupted  Mr.  Sherard 
decisively. 

Then  the   conversation  turned  to  William's  ap- 


THAT  TKEASUKE.  SI 

preaching  departure.  He  had  arranged  to  get  oft 
before  daybreak,  so  that  his  absence  might  be  kept, 
if  possible,  from  the  knowledge  of  the  two  China- 
men. He  clasped  hands  with  each  in  turn,  as  his 
early  departure  would  prevent  any  more  formal 
leave  taking  in  the  morning. 

"If  I'm  spared,"  he  said,  in  a  graver  tone  than 
Usual,  "I'll  be  with  you  in  a  fortnight,  at  the 
furthest.  If  not,  you  may  be  toler'ble  sure  some- 
thin'  has  happened.  God  bless  you,  Tom,"  he 
added,  taking  the  young  fellow  a  little  apart  from 
the  others.  "  I  tuk  a  likin'  to  you  from  the  very 
fust,  an'  ef  you'n*  I  don't  ever  see  each  other  agin' 
jes'  bear  me  in  mind  now'n'  then,  an'  look  out  for 
Mr.  Sherard  an'  Dolly,  jest  as  I'd  do  if  I  was  here 
an' — an'  that's  all." 

Clearing  his  throat  with  some  little  difficulty, 
William  wrung  Tom's  hand;  then  he  went  inside 
and  lay  down  on  one  of  the  cots  for  a  short 
sleep.  When  the  morning  dawned  he  was  gone— 
forerer. 


THAT  TREASURE. 


CHAPTER  VIL 

A   GHASTLY     DISCOVERY. 

AND  now  Tom  Dean  was  left  in  charge  of  the  en- 
tire colony,  and  began  to  feel  quite  a  sense  of 
responsibility. 

The  weapon  taken  by  William,  together  with  the 
pony,  on  the  night  of  their  escape  from  the 
Apaches,  was  a  Sharpe's  carbine.  From  its  superior 
finish  and  initials  engraved  on  a  silver  plate  in  the 
stock,  it  had  evidently  once  been  the  property  of  an 
army  officer.  This  Dolly  had  appropriated  to  her- 
self, and  soon  became  very  expert  in  its  use. 

One  day,  while  Mr.  Sherard  and  Tom  were  pros- 
pecting with  a  view  to  changing  the  location  of 
their  sluice  box,  Dolly,  who  had  accompanied  them, 
met  with  a  somewhat  curious  adventure,  which  re- 
sulted in  the  addition  of  a  fourth  member  to  their 
colony. 

She  had  followed  the  stream  down  for  a  little  dis- 
tance, with  a  view  of  getting  a  shot  at  some  wild 
turkeys,  which  were  in  the  habit  of  roosting,  tow- 
ards evening,  in  the  tall  cottonwoods  along  its 
border.  Turning  a  bend  in  the  stream,  she  came 
unexpectedly  upon  Ah  Sin  and  Ah  Chow. 

Neither  of  them  saw  her,  so  Dolly  drew  back  and 
watched  their  movements  with  a  little  curiosity.  Ah 
Chow  was  evidently  washing  out  dust  in  the  primi- 
tive style  adopted  by  the  very  earliest  miners,  be- 
fore the  cradle  was  introduced. 


THAT  TREASURE.  65 

His  Mongolian  companion,  who  had  been  digging 
for  pay  gravel,  had  laid  aside  his  pick  and  spade, 
and  was  reclining  in  the  shade  of  a  bowlder. 

Ah  Chow,  seated  on  a  rock  at  the  water's  ecige, 
held  in  his  hands  an  iron  pan  full  of  gravel  and  clay 
from  the  trench.  He  sank  it  an  inch  or  two  under 
the  surface,  giving  it  a  sort  of  half  revolving  mo- 
tion, so  that  the  lighter  particles  of  sand  and  gravel 
were  carried  away  by  the  current.  Then,  squeezing 
up  the  lumps  of  clay  in  his  fingers,  he  scooped  up 
the  larger  pebbles  and  stones,  till  nothing  but  the 
dark  iron  sand  remained.  Tilting  the  pan  quickly, 
so  as  to  wash  away  the  sand  and  leave  the  glitter- 
ing particles  of  gold  clinging  to  the  side  and  bot- 
tom, Ah  Chow  peered  eagerly  at  the  result.  There 
was  perhaps  a  pinch  of  the  precious  dust,  which 
was  carefully  scraped  up  with  a  knife  blade  and 
placed  in  an  old  sardine  box 

A  sudden  exclamation  from  Ah  Sin  caused  both 
Dolly  and  Ah  Chow  to  follow  with  their  eyes  the 
direction  of  his  gaze. 

"A  gray  wolf,"  was  Dolly's  first  thought;  and  with 
a  slight  feeling  of  alarm  she  threw  forward  her 
weapon  at  the  sight  of  a  great,  gaunt  beast  who 
stood  at  the  edge  of  the  stream. 

But  a  second  glance  showed  her  that  she  was 
mistaken.  She  gazed  eagerly  at  the  animal.  His 
ribs  showed  plainly  through  his  hide,  which  was 
thickly  powdered  with  gray  alkali  dust,  telling  of 
long  abstinence  from  food  and  weary  wandering 
over  the  plain.  Dolly  uttered  a  little  exclamation. 

"  It  can't  be  possible,"  she  whispered,  with  parted 
lips.  At  the  same  instant,  from  the  other  side  of  the 
narrow  stream  shot  a  long,  snake-like  coil  of 
twisted  rawhide,  the  noose  of  which  settled  down 
over  the  animal's  head  just  as  he  lifted  it  at  the 
sound  of  Dolly's  voice. 


66  THAT  TREASURE. 

A  shrill  cry  of  exultation  from  All  Sin,  who  had 
thrown  the  lasso  with  the  skill  of  a  Mexican  herder, 
was  echoed  by  Ah  Chow.  With  a  vision  of  baked 
dog  for  future  repasts,  he  sprang  to  his  companion's 
side  and  pulled  heavily  back  on  the  taut  lariat ! 

As  the  huge  beast,  with  protruding  eyes  and 
tongue,  planted  his  great  paws  on  the  edge  of  the 
stream  and  resisted  with  all  his  strength,  Dolly 
sprang  forward,  with  her  father's  hunting  knife  in 
her  small  hand.  She  drew  the  keen  edge  across 
the  rawhide,  which  parted  with  a  twang. 

Ah  Sin  and  Ah  Chow,  clinging  convulsively  to 
their  half  of  the  severed  lasso,  went  backward  so 
suddenly  that  their  heads  smote  the  hard  gravel 
with  great  violence,  and  their  feet  were  upturned  to 
the  heavens. 

But  Dolly  saw  nothing  of  this.  In  another  mo- 
ment she  had  cut  the  noose  from  the  half  strangled 
animal's  throat  and  thrown  her  arms  about  its 
neck ! 

"  Oh,  Brave — dear,  good  old  Brave  !  have  you 
really  tracked  us  from  the  good  old  home?"  she 
cried,  hysterically.  The  great  dog,  with  an  in- 
articulate yelp  of  joy,  began  trying  to  lick  her  face 
with  his  rough  tongue,  to  the  manifest  astonish- 
ment and  discomfiture  of  the  Chinamen.  They  had 
regained  their  feet,  and  were  staring  across  the 
stream  at  the  unexpected  sight. 

"Melican  gal  payee  Ah  Chow — she  cuttee  lasso; 
gimme  six  dol',"  yelled  Ah  Chow,  dancing  madly 
about  the  river  bank  and  holding  aloft  the  severed 
fragment.  Dolly  only  laughed,  for  with  Brave  at 
her  side — good  old  Brave,  who  had  been  her  con- 
stant companion  on  the  ranch — she  would  not  hare 
feared  a  small  army  of  Celestials. 

"  You  oughtn't  to  have  tried  to  choke  him,  then," 
she  replied. 


THAT  TREASURE.  67 

Brave  gave  such  a  deep,  ominous  growl,  as  he 
saw  Ah  Chow  and  Ah  Sin,  that  both  Chinamen  in- 
voluntarily stepped  back. 

But  Dolly,  in  her  joy  at  the  recovery  of  her  old 
companion  and  friend,  forgot  Chinamen,  wild  tur- 
keys, and  all  else.  She  made  the  dog  enter  the 
stream  at  a  shallow  ford,  where  he  could  rid  him- 
self of  the  alkali  dust  and  cool  his  feet,  which  were 
sore  and  swollen  with  his  painful  journey.  Then, 
hurrying  back  to  the  house,  Dolly  fed  the  half  fam- 
ished animal  with  meat  and  marrow  bones  till  even, 
his  mighty  appetite  was  satisfied. 

Great  was  Mr.  Sherard's  astonishment  and  delight 
when  he  returned  with  Tom  from  their  labor  in  the 
gulch  and  was  welcomed  by  the  dog  with  every  sign 
of  extravagant  joy. 

"Brave  is  a  cross  between  the  English  mastiff 
and  Siberian  bloodhound,"  he  explained  to  Tom, 
who  at  once  made  friends  with  the  new  member  of 
the  family.  "  He  was  given  to  me  by  the  ranchman 
of  whom  I  bought  my  place,  and  became  Dolly's  de- 
voted attendant.  He  was  away  with  my  herder  on 
the  night  when  the  ranch  was  burned,  and  I  never 
expected  to  see  him  again.  The  faithful  creature 
must  have  followed  our  track  over  the  plains." 

"I  wish  his  intelligence  extended  to  gold  find- 
ing," said  Tom. 

Day  after  day  the  two  men  had  toiled  under  the 
burning  sun.  They  had  located  their  sluice  box 
near  the  spol  designated  by  "William,  and  dug  down 
to  bed  rock,  washing  out  load  after  load  of  mingled 
gravel  and  clay.  But  they  had  not  found  the  lost 
pay  streak,  though  they  were  occasionally  encour- 
aged, by  a  few  shining  particles,  to  hope  that  they 
were  nearing  it. 

This  of  itself  was  discouraging,  but  there  was  a 
still  more  depressing  thought  in  the  minds  of  MJt 


58  THAT  TEEASUEE. 

Sherard  and  Tom,  which  as  yet  they  had  not  men- 
tioned to  Dolly. 

Three  weeks  had  gone  by,  yet  "William  was  still 
absent,  and  if  he  never  returned,  who  would  guide 
them  across  the  wild  wastes  lying  between  Bonanza 
City  and  the  abodes  of  civilization? 

And  without  money  what  could  ihey  do,  even  if 
they  managed  to  reach  the  nearest  settlement  ? 

So  it  is  not  surprising  that  both  Tom  and  Mr, 
Sherard  were  beginning  to  feel  somewhat  downcast 
and  depressed,  as  they  privately  talked  these  mat- 
ters over  together 

The  following  day  was  Saturday,  and  as  the  three 
invariably  regarded  the  Sabbath  as  a  day  of  rest, 
Tom  shouldered  his  rifle  and  slung  his  cartridge 
belt  over  his  shoulder.  As  he  did  so,  he  announced 
his  intention  of  climbing  to  the  top  of  the  divide, 
in  hopes  that  he  might  be  lucky  enough  to  fall  in 
with  a  mountain  elk. 

"Would  Brave  go  with  me,  I  wonder?"  asked 
Tom,  and  the  great  mastiff,  as  if  he  understood  the 
question  perfectly,  looked  up  inquiringly  into 
Dolly's  face. 

"  Go,  Brave,"  she  said,  quietly.  The  dog  at  once 
rose,  and  obediently  followed  at  Tom's  heels. 

"  Good  luck,"  gayly  cried  Dolly.  Tom  waved  his 
hand  in  mute  reply,  and  left  her  with  Mr.  Sherard, 
who  was  smoking  on  the  stoop.  Soon  he  was 
ascending  the  undulating  slope  which  led  upwards 
to  the  crest  of  the  divide.  He  followed  the  same 
trail  by  which  William  had  left  Bonanza  City.  It  had 
been  cleared  from  the  scrub  and  underbrush  by 
the  original  pioneers  and  projectors  of  the  settle- 
ment. 

Absorbed  in  thought,  he  had  reached  the  edge  of 
the  sloping  timber  line,  where  it  ended  quite 
abruptly  near  the  narrow  crest  of  the  divide. 


THAT  TKEASUEE.  59 

Suddenly  Brave,  who  had  been  trotting  on  in  ad- 
vance, stopped  and  sniffed  the  air.  Then,  throwing 
back  his  huge  head,  he  gave  a  prolonged  howl, 
which  echoed  through  the  ravines  below  with  a 
mournful  sound. 

"  What  is  it,  Brave  ?"  said  Tom.  A  shiver  passed 
over  him  as  he  glanced  half  fearfully  around. 

Yet  not  a  living  thing  was  near.  Far  down  the 
slope  he  plainly  saw  the  deserted  settlement,  and 
even  made  out  the  Retreat.  Overhead  shone  the  sun 
from  an  unclouded  sky.  Thousands  of  feet  in  air 
soared  some  large  bird  of  prey,  possibly  an  eagle,  in 
great  concentric  circles. 

Great  bowlders  and  masses  of  crumbling  sand- 
stone were  scattered  irregularly  over  the  summit 
of  the  crest.  With  another  mournful  cry,  the 
mastiff  put  his  nose  to  the  ground,  and  led  the 
way  toward  the  base  of  one  of  the  latter.  Tom, 
with  a  vague  premonition  of  evil,  kept  close  at  the 
dog's  heels. 

Alas,  the  premonition  was  but  too  true.  Ghastly 
and  white,  close  at  the  foot  of  the  crumbling 
sandstone,  lay  a  human  skeleton,  clean  picked  by 
coyotes  and  the  other  horrid  scavengers  of  the 
plains ! 

The  sombrero,  with  its  silver  buckle,  the  clothing 
torn  into  a  thousand  strips  by  savage  teeth  and 
claws,  the  beaded  moccasins  which  had  fallen  from 
the  fleshless  feet,  told  the  horrified  beholder  but  too 
plainly  whose  were  the  ghastly  remains. 

A  bullet  hole  through  the  skull  showed  the  cause 
of  poor  William's  death.  It  was  made  from  a  ball 
fired  from  behind.  His  rifle,  revolver,  knife,  haver- 
sack and  cartridge  belt  were  all  missing — in  itself  a 
most  significant  fact. 

It  was  a  terrible  sight.  For  a  moment  Tom  felt 
sick  and  faint;  then,  summoning  all  his  courage, 


60  THAT  TREASURE. 

he  laid  aside  his  rifle,  and  began  covering  the 
bleached  bones  with  slabs  and  fragments  of 
sandstone,  which  were  everywhere  strewn  on  the 
ground. 

Tom  had  nearly  completed  his  task,  when  some- 
thing in  an  excavation  made  by  the  removal  of  a 
bit  of  fallen  rock  arrested  his  gaze. 

Bemoving  it  from  the  surrounding  soil,  his  heart 
gave  a  great  leap.  It  was  a  nugget  of  virgin  gold 
of  irregular  shape,  weighing  several  ounces  1 


THAT  TREASURE.  '  61 


CHAPTEB  VHL 

A  BULLET    THROUGH    THE  WINDOW. 

WITH  a  strange  mixture  of  emotions,  Tom  Dean 
stood  alone  on  the  crest  of  the  divide,  staring  at  the 
misshapen  bit  of  yellow  metal  in  his  open  palm. 

That  his  golden  dreams  were  about  to  be  realized 
seemed  more  than  probable.  Where  one  such  nug- 
get was  to  be  found,  it  was  reasonable  to  suppose 
there  might  be  many  others. 

There  was  no  indication  that  the  scanty  soil  of 
the  crest  had  ever  before  been  disturbed,  and  Tom's 
heart  began  to  beat  furiously  as  the  possibilities  of 
untold  wealth  danced  before  his  dazzled  mental 
vision. 

At  length  he  aroused  himself.  He  scratched  the 
words  "  Bring  the  picks  "  on  a  slaty  bit  of  rock  with 
the  point  of  his  hunting  knife.  Knotting  it,  with 
the  nugget,  in  his  silk  handkerchief,  he  tied  the 
whole  to  the  mastiffs  collar. 

"  Go,  carry  it  to  them,  Brave,"  he  said,  pointing 
down  the  slope;  and  the  obedient  dog,  who  seemed 
to  understand  perfectly  what  was  required,  started 
rapidly  homeward. 

Then,  bethinking  himself  of  the  completion  of  his 
sad  duty,  Tom  very  reverently  went  on  heaping  the 
sandstone  fragments  over  the  remains  of  his  former 
companion,  till  they  were  hidden  from  sight  by  a 
rocky  mound. 


62  THAT  TREASURE. 

That  William  had  been  murdered  there  was  no 
manner  of  question,  and  Tom  felt  equally  positive 
that  the  Chinamen  were  his  assassins.  The  size  of 
the  bullet  hole  in  the  victim's  skull,  the  fact  that  he 
had  been  shot  from  behind,  and  that  they  were 
thirsting  for  revenge — all  these  pointed  to  the  guilt 
of  Ah  Sin  and  Ah  Chow. 

Mr.  Sherard  received  the  message  brought  by  the 
mastiff,  and  hurried  to  join  Tom,  bearing  the  two 
picks  on  his  shoulder.  "When  he  arrived  he  was 
quite  out  of  breath,  and  excited  far  beyond  his  usual 
wont. 

In  a  few  words  Tom  told  him  the  whole  story  of 
his  double  discovery.  Of  course  Mr.  Sherard  was 
greatly  shocked  at  the  news  of  "William's  untimely 
fate.  Before  beginning  the  work  in  hand  they 
made  a  careful  examination  of  the  surroundings  of 
the  spot.  From  certain  slight  depressions  in  the 
dry  gravel,  it  seemed  that  the  unfortunate  man  Lad 
been  killed  on  the  very  summit  of  the  divide,  while 
following  the  trail  itself,  and  that  his  body  had  been 
dragged  to  the  spot  where  Tom  had  found  it. 

"If  the  two  Chinamen  were  his  murderers,  they 
now  are  nearly  our  equals  in  the  point  of  weapons," 
said  Mr.  Sherard,  "  for  of  course  they  carried  away 
his  rifle  and  revolver.  They  probably  turned  the 
poor  fellow's  horse  adrift,  for  they  would  not  dare 
to  take  him  below,  where  we  should  be  likely  to  see 
him." 

Tom  glanced  uneasily  down  at  the  little  settle- 
ment; but  two  motionless  figures  on  the  rude  stoop 
before  the  Retreat  showed  that  Dolly  and  Brave 
were  in  their  accustomed  places. 

"  Dolly  is  perfectly  safe  with  such  a  guardian  as 
Brave,  and  with  her  knack  at  handling  the  carbine," 
observed  Mr.  Sherard,  when  he  noticed  the  direction 
of  Tom's  gaze.  "  Now,  let  us  begin  operations." 


THAT  TEEASUEE.  63 

But  the  picks  were  really  not  needed.  Incredible 
as  it  may  seem,  gold,  in  nuggets  from  the  size  of  a 
buckshot  to  that  of  a  Winchester  rifle  cartridge,  lay 
in  the  sandstone  crevices,  where  it  could  actually  be 
picked  out  with  a  hunting  knife.  It  lay  in  shining 
pin  head  particles  among  the  soft,  decomposed  slabs 
of  the  sandstone,  and  even  on  the  surface  itself. 

Singularly  enough,  the  gold  was  only  to  be  found 
within  a  space  of  some  sixteen  feet  around  the 
bowlder  which  marked  the  final  resting  place  of  the 
murdered  man,  and  in  the  crevices  of  the  bowlder 
itself,  which  had  evidently  been  decomposed  by  the 
action  of  water. 

The  sun  climbed  higher  and  higher  in  the  cloudless 
sky;  but  still  the  two  worked  on,  unmindful  of  heat, 
hunger  and  thirst. 

But  only  inside  the  area  where  the  great  quartz 
bowlder  had  crumbled  into  fragments  was  this  rich 
deposit  to  be  found.  Vainly  they  tried  elsewhere; 
not  the  slightest  trace  of  gold  was  visible. 

The  sun  had  begun  to  dip  behind  the  furthest 
range  of  hills  before  either  of  them  could  summon 
resolution  to  tear  himself  from  the  charmed  spot. 
At  length  it  was  evident  that  they  could  work  but  a 
little  longer  in  the  waning  daylight. 

"Well,"  said  Tom,  exultantly,  as  he  lifted  his 
haversack,  heavy  with  yellow  nuggets,  and  took  up 
his  rifle,  "  today's  work  has  made  up  for  all  our  bad 
luck  in  the  weeks  past;  eh,  Mr.  Sherard?" 

"Indeed  it  has,"  was  the  earnest  reply;  and  the 
two  began  retracing  their  steps. 

"  Well,  Dolly,"  said  Mr.  Sherard,  gayly,  as  they 
hurried  into  the  kitchen  of  the  Retreat,  "  we  have 
good  news  for  you.  Tom  and  I  have  struck  a  bon- 
anza indeed." 

"  And  we  have  sad  news  as  well,  Miss  Dolly," 
added  Tom. 


64  .  THAT  TBEASUKE. 

The  young  girl's  eyes  dilated  with  astonishment 
at  the  sight  of  the  gold  falling  from  the  open  haver- 
sack as  her  father  dropped  it  heavily  on  the  board 
table  where,  two  years  before,  William  and  Bob 
Cope  had  displayed  their  own  store  on  the  night  of 
the  Apache  attack. 

It  had  been  agreed  between  Tom  and  Mr.  Sherard 
that  Dolly  should  know  nothing  of  their  suspicions 
concerning  the  two  Chinamen.  As  briefly  and 
gently  as  possible  Tom  related  his  discovery  of  Wil- 
liam's remains,  and  left  Dolly  to  infer  that  the  poor 
fellow  had  met  his  fate  at  the  hand  of  some  wander- 
ing Apache. 

Dolly  was  shocked  and  surprised;  yet,  as  was  not 
altogether  unnatural,  the  remembrance  of  the  sad 
tragedy  soon  gave  place  to  brighter  visions. 

"  Ah !  now  we  can  go  back  to  civilization  again, 
father,"  said  Dolly;  "you  can  have  your  books  and 
I  my  music  and  teachers " 

There  came  a  low  growl  from  Brave.  Crouched 
by  Dolly's  side,  he  had  been  steadfastly  regard- 
ing the  perforated  plate  of  glass  which  testified 
to  Mr.  Bob  Cope's  pistol  practice  on  a  former  occa- 
sion. 

"  What's  the  matter,  Brave  ?  Good  dog,"  she  said, 
as  both  Tom  and  Mr.  Sherard  instinctively  looked 
around. 

Two  yellow  faces,  with  eager,  covetous  eyes,  were 
pressed  against  the  window  outside. 

As  quick  as  thought,  Tom  reached  for  his  revolver, 
which  he  had  just  laid  in  his  holster  on  the  table 
with  his  own  haversack  of  gold.  But  before  his 
fingers  clasped  the  handle  of  the  heavy  weapon,  the 
faces  had  vanished  like  an  ugly  vision. 

Dolly  had  bent  down  to  pat  the  mastiff's  head,  and 
saw  nothing  of  all  this  by  play. 

Signing  Mr.  Sherard  to  remain  silent,  Tom  went 


THAT  TKEASURE.  65 

on  talking  in  his  usual  easy  tones,  keeping  his  eyes 
on  the  window.  The  two  candles  upon  the  table  be- 
fore him  cast  a  strong  light  on  his  manly  and  ani- 
mated features. 

Mr.  Sherard  had  pried  up  the  flat  stone  under  the 
table,  beneath  which  William  and  Bob  Cope  had 
hidden  their  own  treasure,  and  was  placing  the  two 
haversacks  under  it. 

Suddenly  the  report  of  a  rifle  broke  the  night 
stillness.  Simultaneously  with  the  sharp  crack  came 
the  whiz  of  a  ball,  which  passed  through  another  of 
the  window  panes  without  shattering  it,  cut  a  lock 
from  Tom's  dark  hair  where  it  was  carelessly 
brushed  back  from  his  forehead,  and  buried  itself  in 
the  opposite  wall. 

Dolly  uttered  a  stifled  cry  of  alarm,  while  Mr. 
Sherard  and  Tom  seized  their  weapons  and  rushed 
out. 

All  was  silent  outside.  The  only  sounds  were  an 
occasional  coyote's  cry,  or  the  hoot  of  some  preda- 
tory owl.  Further  down  the  deserted  street  glim- 
mered a  faint  light  from  the  small  house  in  which 
A.h  Chow  and  Ah  Sin  had  taken  up  their  abode. 

"  Let  us  see  if  they  are  there,"  said  Tom,  briefly. 

Making  their  way  quietly  along  the  grass  grown 
thoroughfare,  the  two  halted  before  the  rude  struc- 
ture. It  was  built  of  logs  placed  cobwise;  it  had 
no  windows,  and  was  entered  by  a  heavy  door, 
which  stood  wide  open  to  admit  the  cool  night  air. 
In  former  daysHhe  place  had  been  used  as  a  sort  of 
lockup,  or  prison,  for  the  temporary  disposal  of 
evil  doers.  Why  the  two  Chinamen  had  selected 
it  as  a  place  of  residence  is  best  known  to  them- 
selves. 

Through  the  open  door,  and  the  chinks  between 
the  logs,  Tom  and  his  copapanjqn  easily  saw  all  that 
was  going  on  inside,, 


66  THAT  TREASURE. 

Ah  Sin  and  Ah  Chow  were  there,  and  had  no  ap- 
pearance of  having  been  engaged  in  any  but  the 
peaceful  pursuit  that  each  was  following. 

Ah  Sin  was  sitting  cross  legged  on  the  hard  clay 
floor,  and  seemed  absorbed  in  sewing  a  large  blue 
patch  on  the  baggiest  part  of  a  pair  of  very  short 
and  wide  legged  dungaree  trousers. 

Ah  Chow  was  reclining  in  one  of  the  two  wooden 
bunks  at  the  side  of  the  room.  He  held  between 
his  teeth  the  mouthpiece  of  an  opium  pipe.  He  was 
just  applying  to  its  tiny  bowl  a  small  pea  shaped 
lump  of  the  prepared  drug  at  the  end  of  a  steel 
wire,  preparatory  to  lighting  it  at  the  flame  of  a 
candle  on  the  broken  stool  near  the  bunk. 

"  They  look  altogether  too  innocent,"  whispered 
Mr.  Sherard,  but  Tom  made  no  reply. 

Stepping  inside,  Winchester  in  hand,  he  addressed 
himself  shortly  and  sharply  to  the  two  Chinamen. 
They  looked  up,  not  exactly  with  the  "  smile  that 
was  childlike  and  bland,"  described  by  Bret  Harte, 
but  with  faces  as  impassive  and  devoid  of  expression 
as  dough. 

"  Look  here,"  said  Tom,  glancing  from  one  to  the 
other,  while  Mr.  Sherard,  in  the  background, 
thumbed  the  hammer  of  his  carbine;  "I  saw  you 
two  fellows  watching  us  tonight  through  the  win- 
dow, and  a  minute  or  two  afterward  one  or  the 
other  of  you  fired  at  me  as  I  sat  by  the  table." 

"  Shootee  at  you !"  interrupted  Ah  Chow,  in  a 
high  squeaky  voice  of  seeming  astonishment.  "How 
can  Chinaman  shootee  with  lifle  when  no  Lab  lifle; 
on'ylil' pistol?" 

"You  know  you  are  lying,"  replied  Tom,  calmly. 
"  You  have  a  rifle  which  you  took  from  the  body  of 
the  man  you  murdered  up  on  the  divide.  I  found 
his  bones  this  very  day." 

If  Tom  had  expected  to  see  any  signs  of  guilt  in 


"Two  yellow   faces,  with  eager,  covetous  eyes,  were  pressed  against 
the  window  outside." 

(  See  page  64) 


THAT  TREASURE.  67 

the  faces  of  either  of  the  two,  he  had  greatly  mis- 
taken his  men. 

Not  a  muscle  in  either  bloodless  face  moved.  Ah 
Chow  inhaled  a  volume  of  the  pungent  smoke  and 
blew  two  clouds  from  his  distended  nostrils;  then 
he  seemed  to  subside  into  a  doze. 

Ah  Sin  bit  another  length  of  thread  and  waxed  it 
very  carefully. 

"  No  sabee  what  Melican  mean,"  he  said,  with  a 
placid  shake  of  his  head.  "  Chinaman  no  killee  no 
one.  Maybe  Melican  do;  but  Chinaman,  no,  no." 

"  Well,"  replied  Tom,  with  an  impatient  shoulder 
shrug,  "all  I've  got  to  say  is  this:  I  shan't  try 
shooting  by  candle  light,  but,  remember,  we  can 
both  shoot  pretty  straight  by  daylight.  So  look 
out." 

"  Allee  light — Chinaman  look  out,"  was  the  im- 
perturbable reply.  Taking  good  care  not  to  turn  his 
back  to  the  speaker,  Tom  edged  out  of  the  door,  fol- 
lowed by  Mr.  Sherard. 

"  We  must  get  away  from  here  as  soon  as  possi- 
ble," said  the  latter,  glancing  behind  him  more  than 
once  as  they  made  their  way  back  to  the  Retreat; 
"  for,  now  these  two  cutthroats  have  seen  our 
gold,  they  are  ten  times  more  to  be  feared  than  be- 
fore." 

Tom  gave  an  assenting  nod. 

"Let  us  have  one  more  search  tomorrow  along 
the  top  of  the  divide,"  he  said;  "then,  trusting  to 
luck  and  our  pocket  compass,  we'll  strike  for  Hoi- 
comb  and  civilization." 

Dolly  looked  anxiously  from  her  father  to  Tom  as 
they  entered  the  room. 

"  Did  you  find  out  who  fired  the  shot  ?"  she 
asked. 

"  It  was  probably  one  of  the  Chinamen,"  said  her 
father,  with  affected  ca,re}essness.  "He  perhaps 


£8  THAT  TREASURE. 

discharged  his  revolver  by  accident,  or  possibly  fired 
through  the  window  to  aunoy  us." 

Dolly  had  dug  out  the  bullet  from  the  woodwork 
in  their  absence.  Without  speaking,  she  placed  it 
on  the  table.  It  was  the  conical  ball  from  a  Win- 
chester shell.  Tom  and  Mr.  Sherard  exchanged 
glances,  but  remained  silent.  So  did  Dolly. 

That  night  Brave's  strip  of  rag  carpet  was  laid 
directly  over  the  hiding  place  of  the  gold,  while 
Mr.  Sherard  and  Tom  took  turns  at  watching  till 
daylight. 

Nothing  came  of  it,  however,  and  leaving  Dolly  in 
charge  of  the  mastiff,  the  two  men  started  again  for 
the  divide,  where  they  dug  and  delved  till  late  in 
the  afternoon.  Though  their  success  was  nearly 
equal  to  that  of  the  previous  day,  it  was  evident 
that  the  last  of  the  golden  harvest  was  gleaned. 

"  Well,"  Mr.  Sherard  said,  as  the  two  prepared  to 
take  their  leave  of  the  spot,  "as  nearly  as  I  can 
judge,  we  must  have,  between  us,  something  like 
fifteen  or  sixteen  thousand  dollars;  a  pretty  rich 
find  for  only  two  days  of  search." 

"  Enough  to  warrant  us  in  leaving  this  place  as 
soon  as  we  can  pack  up,"  returned  Tom,  emphati- 
cally. Casting  a  glance  around,  they  returned  to 
the  trail,  and  began  their  descent  to  the  settle- 
ment. 

But  where  was  Dolly,  who  almost  invariably  came 
as  far  as  the  bridge  to  meet  them  ?  She  was  no- 
where in  sight. 

"  Very  likely  she  has  gone  down  the  river  with 
Brave  in  search  of  game,"  said  Mr.  Sherard,  who 
felt  but  little  uneasiness  about  Dolly  when  she  had 
the  mastiff  as  her  companion,  and  carried  a  carbine 
over  her  shoulder. 

As  he  spoke  he  seemed  to  be  struck  by  a  sudden 
thought,  and  hastily  entered  the  empty  kitchen. 


THAT  TKEASUKE.  69 

Palling  on  his  knees  beside  the  hiding  place  of  their 
gold,  he  lifted  the  covering  stone. 

"  It's  all  right,"  he  said,  with  a  half  sigh  of  relief. 
Just  at  that  moment,  perhaps  for  the  first  time  in 
his  whole  life,  Mr.  Sherard  was  thinking  more  of 
the  gold  than  his  daughter. 

"Put  this  with  the  rest," remarked  Tom,  stripping 
off  his  haversack  and  extending  it  to  Mr.  Sherard, 
"  while  I  go  after  Miss  Dolly.  I  don't  think  she 
realizes  how  late  it  is  getting."  And,  throwing 
his  Winchester  in  the  hollow  of  his  arm,  he  hurried 
away. 

Despite  Mr.  Sherard's  remark,  Tom  somehow  felt 
a  shadowy  uneasiness.  Dolly  seldom  ventured  away 
from  the  house  so  late  in  the  afternoon. 

Mr.  Sherard  scarcely  noticed  his  departure. 
Kneeling  by  the  cavity,  he  was  dropping  in  the 
nuggets  and  listening  rapturously  as  one  by  one 
they  fell  with  a  dull  metallic  sound,  suggestive  of 
the  pleasant  clinking  of  coin  and  rustle  of  bank 
notes  which  they  represented. 

He  was  too  much  absorbed  to  be  conscious  of  an- 
other presence  in  the  building.  With  stealthy,  cat- 
like step,  the  naked  splay  feet  of  Ah  Sin  the  China- 
man were  stealing  from  the  little  room  where  Dolly 
had  slept.  His  lean  but  sinewy  arms  were  bared  to 
his  elbows,  anl  his  claw-like  fingers  were  clutched 
about  a  stout  whalebone  stick  some  fifteen  inches 
long,  one  end  of  which  was  inserted  in  a  lead  ball 
covered  with  netted  twine. 

Nearer  and  nearer  he  crept  toward  his  victim, 
who,  all  unconscious  of  danger,  was  kneeling  with 
his  back  toward  the  Chinaman.  His  small  eyes 
glittered  with  a  baleful  light  as  they  rested  on  the 
gold. 

As  the  last  nugget  slipped  from  Mr.  Sherard'* 
fingers,  the  sound  of  a  distant  rifle  shot  caused  him 


70  THAT  TREASURE. 

to  look  suddenly  up;  but  it  was  at  that  precise  mo- 
ment that  the  blow  descended.  Throwing  out  his 
arms  blindly,  he  dropped  forward  on  his  face  ! 

When  he  recovered  consciousness,  he  was  lying 
securely  bound  in  one  corner  of  the  room,  with  the 
worst  headache  he  ever  remembered  having  experi- 
enced in  his  whole  life. 

Too  much  confused  to  frame  his  waking  thoughts 
into  speech,  ho  looked  stupidly  about  him. 

By  the  light  of  a  dimly  burning  candle,  he  saw 
Ah  Sin  and  Ah  Chow  sitting  at  the  board  table,  with 
the  pile  of  nuggets  between  them,  evidently  intent 
upon  dividing  the  spoil. 

Still  it  did  not  seem  real,  but  more  like  a  very 
ugly  suggestion  of  nightmare,  when  his  eyes  sud- 
denly rested  on  two  Winchester  rifles  standing 
against  the  side  of  the  room  nearest  himself. 

With  a  thrill  of  horror  he  recognized  one  of  them 
by  a  peculiarly  shaped  knot  in  the  polished  stock  as 
being  Tom  Dean's;  and  he  felt  instinctively  that  its 
companion  was  the  rifle  which  had  belonged  to  the 
murdered  William. 

Where  was  Tom  ?  Where  ?  And  then  it  all  came 
back  to  him. 

"Great  heavens!"  he  cried,  frantically  tugging 
and  straining  at  his  bonds  in  impotent  fury;  "  where 
— what  have  you  done  with  my  daughter — my 
Dolly?" 

"Oh,  Melican  gal  allee  light,"  coolly  replied  Ah 
Sin,  without  so  much  as  taking  his  greedy  eyes  from 
the  pile  of  gold. 

The  proverbial  honor  among  thieves  was  unknown 
to  these  disciples  of  Confucius.  Each  was  ready  to 
take  advantage  of  the  other,  and  juggle  a  bit  of 
gold  up  his  sleeve  or  into  the  folds  of  his  blouse 
with  the  dexterity  of  a  card  sharper. 

In  vain  Mr.  Sherard  alternately  raved,  entreated, 


THAT  TEEASUKE.  71 

threatened,  and  wrenched  at  the  rawhide  thongs 
which  bound  his  wrists  and  ankles,  till  they  cut  into 
the  flesh.  Ah  Sin  and  Ah  Chow,  who  had  begun 
shrieking  and  squabbling  over  the  division,  paid  not 
the  slightest  attention  to  his  words  or  movements. 
They  merely  vouchsafed  an  occasional  swift  glance 
to  make  sure  that  he  was  securely  tied,  and  then  re- 
sumed their  woi'dy  arguments. 

It  was  nearly  midnight  before  the  two  came  to 
anything  like  an  understanding,  and  even  then  it 
was  evidently  not  an  altogether  friendly  one. 

Each  knotted  his  pile  of  nuggets  securely  in  a 
big  handkerchief,  and  mounted  guard  over  it  with 
his  rifle,  evidently  distrusting  the  other's  inten- 
tions. 

Neither  closed  his  eyes  through  the  night.  Tak- 
ing turns  at  renewing  the  candles,  as  they  burned 
down  to  a  flickering  stump,  they  sat  through  the 
long  night  which  seemed  almost  an  eternity  to  Mr. 
Sherard,  tortured  alike  in  body  and  mind,  impa- 
tiently awaiting  the  day  dawn. 


THAT  TEEASUEE, 


CHAPTEE  IX. 

THE  CHINAMEN   AT   BAT. 

As  the  first  gleams  from  the  glowing  east  began 
stealing  in  through  the  window  and  open  door,  Ah 
Sin  and  Ah  Chow,  who  had  preserved  a  sullen  si- 
lence through  the  long  night  watches,  began  to 
rouse  themselves  into  something  like  activity. 

The  former  laid  aside  his  rifle,  and  made  a  care- 
ful examination  of  Mr.  Sherard's  fastenings,  but  re- 
mained deaf  to  all  the  captive's  entreaties  for  in- 
formation as  to  the  fate  of  his  daughter  and  Tom 
Dean. 

A  few  words  were  rapidly  exchanged  between  the 
two.  Then,  taking  with  him  his  rifle  and  his  hand- 
kerchief of  nuggets,  Ah  Sin  left  the  kitchen. 

Ah  Chow  brought  a  couple  of  blankets  from  the 
adjoining  room,  and  began  packing  up  sundry  neces- 
saries, evidently  for  a  proposed  departure. 

"Bime  by  Chinaman  takee  all  hoss  an'  leave  Meli- 
can  man,"  he  said,  with  an  unpleasant  grin.  "  Meii- 
can  man  hab  all  town,  all  diggin's,  mebbe  fin'  heap 
gol'  bime  by;  but  no  hab  hoss,  no  can  catchee 
Chinamen." 

"You  infernal,  squint  eyed,  yellow  skinned 
image,"  vociferated  Mr.  Sherard,  beside  himself 
with  rage  and  mental  agony;  "  if  a  hair  of  my 
daughter's  head  has  come  to  harm  through  you,  I'll 
follow  you  to  the  ends  of  the  earth." 


THAT  TEEASUEE.  73 

"  Oh,  Melican  gal  allee  light,"  repeated  Ah  Chow, 
with  exasperating  calmness;  and  the  assertion, 
vague  as  it  was,  gave  Mr.  Sherard  a  shadowy  sense 
of  comfort. 

"  Probably,"  he  went  on,  grinding  his  teeth  in 
impotent  wrath,  "  you've  murdered  poor  Tom  Dean 
as  you  did  the  man  whose  bones  we  found  on  the 
divide.  As  sure  as  there's  any  such  thing  as  lynch 
law  on  the  borders,  you  shall  both  swing  for  it !" 

"  Mebbe,  s'pose  catchee  Chinaman,"  was  the  phil- 
osophical reply.  Yet  Mr.  Sherard  fancied  he  saw  a 
trace  of  uneasiness  flit  over  Ah  Chow's  saffron  col- 
ored face,  as  he  spoke. 

The  neigh  and  whinny  of  broncos  and  an  Indian 
pony,  with  a  snuffle  peculiar  to  the  Chinaman's  pack 
mule,  were  heard  in  front  of  the  building.  Immedi- 
ately afterwards,  Ah  Sin  entered.  In  one  hand  was 
William's  Winchester;  in  the  other  a  pair  of  raw- 
hide saddle  bags  which  are  carried  hanging  over 
the  pack  mule's  shoulders  in  front  of  the  pack  sad- 
dle. 

In  one  bag  was  Ah  Sin's  share  of  the  golden 
plunder,  and  in  the  other  Ah  Chow  deposited  his 
own. 

Drawing  a  knife  from  inside  his  blouse,  the  lat- 
ter cut  the  lashings  of  Mr.  Sherard's  swollen  wrists. 

"  Bime  by  when  Chinamen  allee  gone  with  gol'  an* 
gun  an'  hoss,"  he  said  with  another  exasperating 
grin,  "you  gettee  feets  loose — den  you  go  lookee 
for  Melican  gal." 

The  noise  of  the  trampling  of  horses  on  the 
wooden  bridge  caused  Ah  Chow  to  stop  suddenly, 
and  glance  with  a  startled  look  of  apprehension 
through  the  window. 

The  voice  of  Ah  Sin  from  the  front,  calling  some- 
thing in  a  high  key,  caused  his  parchment  face  to 
take  on  a  livid  hue.  Hesitating  a  brief  moment,  he 


74  THAT  TREASUKE. 

joined  his  companion,  and  Mr.  Sherard  heard  them 
hastily  putting  a  timber  prop  against  the  front 
dooi. 

"  The  Apaches,"  he  groaned,  white  to  his  lips  with 
a  terror  which  he  could  not  throw  off.  Bound  and 
helpless,  he  must  lie  till  the  bloody  fiends  broke 
down  the  feeble  barricade. 

"  Roun*  to  the  back  uv  the  buildin',  some  of  ye," 
shouted  a  hoarse  voice  from  the  front.  It  gave  new 
life  to  the  disheartened  captive.  "  Git  roun'  thnr 
quick  I  The  Chinyman  that  dug  inside  and  shoved 
to  the  door  was  that  derned  Ah  Sin  we  was  after  to 
Murd'rer's  Flat,  an'  he's  up  to  some  deviltry,  or  I'll 
loose  my  guess." 

Ah  Sin  and  Ah  Chow,  who  had  evidently  hoped 
by  fastening  the  front  door  to  gain  time  to  effect 
their  escape  at  the  rear,  rushed  back  to  the  kit- 
chen as  the  foregoing  order  was  issued. 

Seizing  the  saddle  bags  and  his  rifle,  Ah  Sin  ran 
to  the  rear  window,  followed  by  Ah  Chow,  to  be 
confronted  by  half  a  dozen  leveled  Winchesters. 

The  average  Chinaman  would  have  weakened. 
But  Ah  Sin  and  his  villainous  companion  were  of  a 
different  stamp.  It  was,  in  any  event,  death  for 
them  at  the  hands  of  the  plainsmen,  to  whom  they 
were  known  by  repute,  when  their  prisoner  should 
make  known  the  story  of  their  crimes.  Like  rats  in 
a  corner,  they  meant  to  fight  to  the  last. 

"S'render,  you  moon  eyed  leper !"  called  a  bearded 
man,  smashing  in  the  window  sash  with  the  butt  of 
his  rifle.  Meanwhile  a  fierce  battering  at  the  front 
door  shook  the  frail  building  to  its  center. 

Ah  Sin's  answer  was  a  shot  from  within,  and  the 
speaker,  with  a  choking  cry,  threw  his  arms  in  air 
and  fell  backward. 

The  mad  yell  of  rage  from  without  was  followed 
by  the  crash  of  the  rear  window  and  the  door  in 


THAT  TREASURE.  7S 

front,  and  in  less  time  than  is  occupied  in  describ- 
ing the  event,  Ah  Sin  and  Ah  Chow,  who  fought  like 
incarnate  fiends,  were  overpowered  and  tied. 

The  leader  of  the  invading  band,  one  of  whom 
had  at  once  released  Mr.  Sherard's  ankles,  was  a 
tall,  powerfully  built  individual,  whose  sunburned 
features  were  nearly  hidden  by  his  bushy  whiskers. 

"Now  then,  stranger,"  be  said,  turning  to  Mr. 
Sherard,  "  mebbe  you'll  kinder  explain  the  sitooa- 
tion,  so's  we'll  know  what  all  this  bizness  means." 

Part  of  the  "  bizness  "  to  which  he  alluded  waa 
evidently  the  contents  of  the  saddle  bags.  One  of 
the  new  comers  had  poured  them  out  on  the  table, 
amid  the  loudly  expressed  comments  of  the  others, 
who  had  crowded  round. 

It  did  not  take  Mr.  Sherard  long  to  tell  his  story 
in  brief,  reserving  detail  for  a  more  appropriate 
season. 

Darker  and  darker  grew  the  brow  of  the  leader, 
as  Mr.  Sherard  went  on  to  the  conclusion.  Striding 
across  the  floor  to  the  spot  where  the  Chinamen 
were  sitting,  bound  and  guarded,  with  dogged  des- 
pair written  on  each  leaden  hued  face,  he  drew  his 
revolver,  and,  cocking  it,  placed  the  muzzle  against 
Ah  Sin's  temple. 

"  Do  you  know  who  I  be  ?"  he  fairly  shouted,  while 
his  eyes  blazed  with  suppressed  fury. 

"  Yes;  you  Mist'  Cope,"  was  the  sullen  reply. 

"  I'm  Bob  Cope,  an'  murderin'  my  old  pard  is  one 
uv  the  things  that'll  come  up  agin  you  an'  yer  yeller 
chum  presently,"  significantly  and  sternly  respond- 
ed the  bearded  man.  "But  jes'  now  what  I  wanter 
know  is  this  :  "What  hev  you  two  done  with  this 
gentleman's  little  gal  an'  her  dog?  Speak  quick, 
for  my  fingers  is  itchin'  to  pull." 

"  Gal  allee  light;  she  in  lockup,"  said  Ah  Chow, 
without  raising  his  eyes  from  the  floor. 


76  THAT  TKEASUKE. 

"  In  the  lockup,"  repeated  Mr.  Sherard,  in  a  be- 
wildered but  hopeful  tone. 

"  I  know  whar  he  means,"  returned  Bob  Cope. 
Instructing  two  or  three  of  the  men  to  keep  close 
watch  of  their  prisoners,  he  saw  that  the  gold  was 
returned  to  the  rawhide  receptacle,  \vhichwas  tossed 
carelessly  into  the  corner  cupboard. 

"  Now  them  two  Chinymen  is  tied  up,  yer  nuggits 
is  as  safe  with  us  as  though  it  war  in  the  Holcomb 
bank,  whar  poor  William's  gol'  dus'  hes  ben  layin' 
all  this  time,"  said  Cope.  "  So  now  we'll  git  along 
to  the  lockup  an'  let  out  the  little  gal  an'  her  dog." 

A  big  fire  had  been  started  outside.  At  least 
forty  men  were  unsaddling  horses,  broncos  and  In- 
dian ponies,  while  others  brought  cookiug  imple- 
ments and  stores  from  a  large  tilted  wagon  drawn 
by  mules.  A  number  of  mounted  men  %vere  to  be 
seen  coming  down  the  trail  from  the  divide. 

"It's  a  little  party  I  got  up  to  Holcomb  fer 
workin'  over  these  here  claims  agin,"  explained  Bob 
Cope,  as  he  and  Mr.  Sherard  hurried  down  the 
street.  "  An'  considerable  many  of  'em  was  with 
them  that  started  in  here  when  the  diggin's  was 
fust  struck.  The  Black  Hills  an'  round  there  is 
playin'  out,  so  a  lot  of  us  has  drifted  back  here 
agin,  for  we  know  thar's  gold  here  some'res — ' 

"Hark!"  interrupted  Mr.  Sherard,  as  the  deep 
bay  of  a  dog  was  heard  proceeding  from  some 
penned  up  spot.  In  another  moment  they  were 
standing  before  the  small  square  structure  wrhich 
the  Chinamen  had  occupied. 

"  This  was  the  lockup,  when  Bonanza  City  was 
boomin',"  began  Bob,  but  Mr.  Sherard  did  not 
listen.  A  clear  voice  came  from  within,  as  he 
tugged  at  the  hasp  and  staple  of  the  door. 

"  I'm  all  right,  father,"  it  said,  and  this  interested 
him  far  more  than  Mr.  Cope's  description. 


THAT  TREASURE.  77 

In  another  moment,  Dolly,  looking  pale  and 
anxious,  but  otherwise  quite  herself,  was  in  her 
father's  arms,  while  Brave  capered  about  them,  bark- 
ing in  boisterous  delight. 

Dolly's  story  was  short  and  simple.  WLile  sitting 
with  Brave  on  the  stoop  the  afternoon  before,  Ah 
Sin  had  run  up  the  street,  wringing  his  hands  and 
making  a  tremendous  outcry.  Ah  Chow,  as  he  de- 
clared in  voluble  pigeon  English,  had  cut  himself 
terribly  in  their  little  house  at  the  other  end  of  the 
street.  He  was  bleeding'  to  death,  and  they  did 
not  know  how  to  stop  the  flow  of  blood.  Would 
Missy — 

Of  course  "Missy's"  sympathies  were  at  once 
roused.  She  tore  off  some  strips  from  the  cotton 
cloth  on  which  she  had  been  working,  and  seized 
her  carbine  as  a  matter  of  necessary  precaution. 
Then,  accompanied  by  Brave,  who  growled  all  the 
way,  she  followed  close  at  Ah  Sin's  heels  till  they 
reached  the  lockup.  Stipulating,  still  as  a  matter 
of  precaution,  that  Ah  Sin  should  stop  outside, 
Dolly  entered,  carbine  in  hand,  with  Brave  at  her 
side. 

The  slam  of  the  door,  accompanied  by  Ah  Sin's 
triumphant  laugh,  told  Dolly  that  she  was  trapped. 
To  her  dismay,  she  discovered  that  the  carbine  was 
unloaded,  while  her  cartridge  belt  had  been  left  be- 
hind; else  in  this  way  she  might  have  given  the 
alarm  by  discharging  it  between  the  logrs.  A  prey 
to  all  kinds  of  fearful  apprehensions,  she  Lad  re- 
mained a  prisoner  all  night;  and  her  joy  can 
easily  be  imagined  when  she  was  once  more  at 
liberty. 

Bob  Cope  listened  in  surprise  and  respectful  ad- 
miration, as  the  young  girl,  with  her  graceful  bear- 
ing and  frank,  outspoken  manner,  told  her  story, 
and  in  turn  exacted  from  her  father  a  detailed  ac- 


78  THAT  TKEA.SUKE. 

count  of  all  that  had  happened  since  her  imprison- 
ment. 

"As  plucky  a  gal  as  you'd  see  in  a  day's  ride, 
Jim,"  he  said  to  his  lieutenant  that  evening,  when 
they  returned  from  a  thorough  search  for  missing 
Tom  along  both  banks  of  the  river;  "but  when  I 
broke  it  as  easy  as  I  knowed  how  to  'em  that  we 
found  the  marks  where  one  of  the  Chinymen  hed 
rested  his  gun  in  a  crotch,  an'  shot  the  young  feller 
plum  through,  to  jedge  by  the  blood  on  the  grass, 
an'  then  dragged  his  body  to  the  bank  an'  chucked 
it  in — I  say  when  I  come  to  tell  her  this,  an'  how 
the  current  hed  likely  kerried  him  miles  an'  miles 
down  stream,  through  the  kenyon — she  jest  turned 
whiter'n  any  sheet,  an*  I  cal'lated  she  was  goin'  to 
swound.  But  she  didn't;  she  only  sighed  es  though 
her  little  heart  was  breakin',  an'  I  heard  her  kinder 
whisper  to  herself  like,  '  Oh,  Tom !  Poor,  dear 
Tom !'  I  cal'late,  Jim,"  continued  Bob  Cope,  pro- 
ceeding to  light  his  pipe,  "that  Miss  Dolly,  as 
they  call  her,  thought  an  awful  sight  of  that  ar 
Tom." 

Jim  nodded,  and  gravely  answered: 

"If  signs  is  anything  to  go  by,  you  kin  jes'  bet 
yer  sweet  life  she  did." 


THAT  T&EASUBE.  79 


CHAPTER  X. 

SWEPT  DOWN   BLACK   CANYON. 

WHEN  Tom  Dean  left  Mr.  Sherard  at  the  close  of 
the  afternoon,  and  went  in  search  of  Miss  Dolly,  he 
proceeded  directly  down  the  river's  edge,  hoping 
each  moment  to  hear  her  returning  footsteps,  or 
meet  her  face  to  face  with  Brave  at  her  side. 

But  as  he  lost  sight  of  the  settlement  in  the  thick 
growth  of  willow  and  cottonwood,  he  saw  or  heard 
no  trace  of  the  missing  girl.  Hia  uneasiness  was 
giving  place  to  something  like  alarm. 

That  the  two  Chinamen  would  dare  to  harm  an 
unoffending  girl,  protected,  as  Dolly  was,  by  the 
presence  of  Brave  and  by  her  own  skill  with  the 
rifle,  Tom  could  hardly  believe.  And  yet,  what  did 
her  prolonged  absence  mean  ? 

Putting  his  hands  to  his  mouth,  Tom  called 
loudly: 

"  Miss  Dolly  1  Miss  Dolly !"  but  only  the  mock- 
ing echoes  from  ravine  and  defile  replied. 

Filled  with  apprehension,  Tom  stood  for  a  mo- 
ment motionless  on  the  bank  of  the  river.  Increas- 
ing in  width  and  gathering  strength  as  it  swept 
onward  after  leaving  the  foot  of  the  hills,  the 
stream  ran  deep,  turbid  and  swift  toward  a  distant 
canyon. 

A  slight  rustle  in  the  underbrush  a  few  feet  be- 
hind Tom  caused  him  to  turn  his  head  suddenly. 
The  movement  doubtless  saved  his  life. 


80  THAT  TKEASUEE. 

For  almost  simultaneous  with  the  sound  came  the 
stunning  report  of  a  rifle  not  twenty  feet  away;  and 
the  ball,  which  would  have  penetrated  the  skull, 
only  struck  the  side  of  his  head,  just  above  the 
right  ear;  and  plowing  its  way  almost  to  the 
temple,  it  flew  off  at  a  tangent. 

But  apparently  the  bullet  had  done  its  work. 
Stunned  by  the  shock,  Tom  reeled,  dropped  his 
rifle,  and  fell  insensible,  while  a  torrent  of  blood 
flowed  from  the  ghastly  wound ! 

Even  Ah  Chow,  hardened  to  such  sights  as  he 
was,  shuddered  a  little  as  he  saw  the  motionless 
form  lying  in  its  own  gore;  but  this  did  not  pre- 
vent him  from  making  a  thorough  examination  of 
Tom's  outside  pockets,  without,  however,  finding 
much  to  reward  his  search. 

Three  Mexican  dollars,  a  penknife  which  had 
been  the  professor's,  a  pocket  compass,  and  some 
matches  in  a  waterproof  box,  formed  the  entire  con- 
tents. Taking  these,  together  with  his  weapons  and 
cartridge  belt,  Ah  Chow  launched  the  body  into  the 
water  with  a  vigorous  push. 

"  Dead  man  tellee  no  tale,"  he  muttered,  repeating 
a  phrase  he  had  heard  the  miners  use.  With  one 
final  glance  at  the  body  drifting  swiftly  away,  he 
turned  back  to  discover  how  successfully  Ah  Sin 
had  performed  his  own  part  of  the  prearranged 
plot. 

The  plunge  into  the  cold  water  of  the  rushing 
river  had  the  effect  of  partially  restoring  Tom  Dean 
to  consciousness.  It  was  enough,  at  least,  for  him 
to  realize  that  he  had  only  escaped  death  in  one 
form  to  be  threatened  with  it  in  another. 

As  he  struck  out  with  the  blind  instinct  of  self 
preservation,  his  fingers  touched  a  log  which  had 
in  some  way  become  detached  from  the  bridge 
above,  and  drifted  slowly  down  with  the  current. 


THAT  TEEASUEE.  81 

Clutching  this  as  desperately  as  a  drowning  man 
grasps  a  straw,  Torn  succeeded  in  getting  his  arms 
over  it  and  resting  upon  it. 

Weakened  by  loss  of  blood,  and  encumbered  by 
his  soaked  clothing,  he  did  not  feel  strong  enough 
even  to  swim  the  few  yards  needful  for  reaching  the 
shore. 

The  flow  of  blood  from  his  wound  had  abated. 
Resting  his  elbows  on  the  log,  Tom  contrived  to 
free  the  silk  handkerchief  from  his  neck,  and  tie  it 
about  his  head.  Then  he  began  slowly  and  pain- 
fully striking  out  with  his  legs  and  feet  for  the  river 
bank. 

But,  to  his  alarm,  Tom  found  that  the  current  was 
hurrying  him  on  faster  and  faster.  As  he  was  swept 
suddenly  round  an  abrupt  bend,  the  river  percept- 
ibly widened,  and  he  was  soon  in  the  midst  of  foam- 
ing rapids,  against  which  his  feeble  efforts  were 
futile. 

On  and  still  on  through  the  fast  gathering  dark- 
ness, tossed  hither  and  thither  like  a  cork  by  the 
mimic  waves,  yet  clinging  convulsively  to  his  frail 
support,  Tom  felt  himself  carried  downwards  by  a 
resistless  force. 

In  this  terrible  situation  he  became  delirious.  He 
fancied  that  he  was  swimming  after  a  white  canoe, 
which  Dolly,  all  unconscious  of  clanger,  was  pad- 
dling swiftly  forward  a  little  in  advance.  His  warn- 
ing shouts  and  cries,  echoed  back  as  though  by  the 
walls  of  a  great  cavern,  were  finally  drowned  by  the 
roar  of  a  dashing  waterfall.  Then  the  canoe  with 
its  fair  burden  plunged  downward  in  the  seeth- 
ing torrent,  and  Tom  was  swept  unresistingly 
after  it. 

There  was  no  fancy  as  to  the  latter  part  of  Tom's 
experience!  Gasping  and  half  strangled,  he  came 
to  the  surface  at  the  foot  of  what  he  dimly  saw  to 


85  THAT  TREASURE. 

be  a  tolerably  high  cataract.  Seized  by  the  eddy- 
ing current,  he  was  swept  in  towards  a  white  pebbly 
beach,  a  little  above  which  he  saw  a  blazing  fire. 

Summoning  all  his  strength,  Tom  reached  the 
shore.  Regaining  his  feet,  he  staggered  towards  the 
fire,  about  which  two  or  three  dark  forms  were 
moving. 

""Who's  thar?"  demanded  a  rough  voice;  and 
then  followed  the  sharp  click  of  a  rifle  hammer 
drawn  back. 

Tom,  unable  to  speak,  answered  the  query  by- 
tottering  forward  and  falling  insensible  just  inside 
the  circle  of  firelight. 

"Thar,  the  water's  about  drained  out  of  him;  now 
turn  him  over,  Steve." 

Like  one  in  a  half  waking  dream,  Tom  felt  him- 
self laid  gently  on  a  pile  of  skins  by  strong  hands. 
Then  a  fiery  liquid  was  poured  down  his  throat, 
and,  after  a  short  period  of  strangling,  he  opened 
his  eyes. 

"  He's  comin'  round  ail  right.  Now,  Steve,  rus'le 
inside  the  tepee,  and  tell  Nita  to  send  out  a  towel 
and  some  dry  clo'es." 

The  speaker  was  a  short  man  with  shaggy  beard 
and  unkempt  hair,  who,  as  he  spoke,  replaced  the 
cork  in  the  neck  of  the  black  bottle,  and  rose  to  his 
feet. 

A  tall  Indian  lad,  who  had  been  standing  near 
Tom's  head,  hurried  inside  what  appeared  to  be  a 
camp  or  wigwam,  into  whose  open  entrance  shone 
the  cheery  firelight.  The  speaker,  without  much 
ceremony,  divested  Tom  of  his  soaked  clothing. 

The  Indian,  who  had  been  addressed  by  the  un- 
romantic  name  of  Steve,  then  proceeded  to  rub 
Tom  into  animation  with  a  rough  towel,  and  assist 
him  into  a  dry  woolen  shirt  and  a  pair  of  dilapi- 
dated trousers. 


THAT  TKEASUKE.  83 

"Bueno — you  better  now,"  he  said,  in  a  low  and 
rather  musical  voice,  as  Tom  raised  himself  to  a 
sitting  posture,  and  held  out  his  numbed  fingers  to 
the  blaze. 

"  Course  he's  better,"  interposed  the  rough  voiced 
man,  who  was  bringing  out  Tom's  wet  garments  and 
hanging  them  about  the  fire.  "  Hyar,  Nita  1" 

In  answer  to  the  call,  a  woman  of  somewhat  dark 
but  comely  features  appeared  at  the  door  of  the 
tepee.  Her  long  black  hair  fell  loose  over  the 
reboza  which  was  crossed  in  Mexican  style  about  her 
breast  and  shoulders. 

"Bring  out  that  there  medicine  bag;  his  head 
wants  tendin'  to." 

The  woman  obeyed  in  silence.  Carefully  remov- 
ing the  blood  stained  handkerchief,  she  washed  the 
wound  with  soft  fibers  of  the  soap  plant,  dipped  in 
warm  water,  and  bound  it  up  again  with  rags,  on 
which  a  pungent  smelling  ointment  had  been 
spread.  Then  she  went  back  to  the  tepee  without 
having  once  spoken. 

The  bearded  man  seated  himself  beside  the  blazo, 
and  proceeded  to  light  a  short  black  pipe.  Tom 
was  vainly  trying  to  collect  his  confused  ideas,  so  as 
to  explain  his  unexpected  arrival. 

"  Mebbe  you've  heard  of  Rube  Lund,  the  Injun 
trader;  I'm  him,"  Tom's  new  friend  finally  re- 
marked, after  vainly  waiting  for  the  boy  to  speak. 

"I'm — my  name  is  Tom  Dean,"  returned  Tom, 
putting  his  hands  to  his  aching  head.  "  I  and  an- 
other man  have  been  placer  mining  back  of  Bonanza 
City.  Some  one  shot  at  me  today — Chinaman,  I 
think.  I  fell  into  the  river — " 

"  Good  Lord !"  interrupted  Mr.  Lund,  taking  his 
pipe  from  his  mouth,  and  staring  aghast  at  the 
speaker.  "  Fell  inter  the  river  up  thar  1  Why,  man 
alive,  you've  come  through  the  rapids  of  the  Black 


64  THAT  TREASURE 

Canyon,  that  runs  twenty  miles  an  hour,  and  over 
tlie  lower  fall.  It's  plain  to  see  you  never  was  born 
to  be  drownded  !" 

"  No,"  said  Tom,  beginning  to  talk  very  loud  and 
fast,  as  he  stared  confusedly  around  him.  "  The 
professor  used  to  say  I  was  born  to  good  luck, 
though  it  would  be  a  long  time  coming.  But  I  must 
go  and  find  Dolly — " 

At  this  moment  the  Indian  woman  stepped  from 
the  tepee,  with  a  cup  containing  a  dark  colored 
liquid  in  her  hand. 

"  Drink,"  she  said,  quietly,  and  she  placed  the 
potion  to  his  lips.  Tom  instinctively  obeyed. 

"That  stuff  11  make  you  sleep  like  lodlum.  I 
reck'n  you'd  better  turn  in  to  once,"  said  Rube 
Lund.  He  motioned  to  the  Indian  lad,  and  the  two 
helped  Tom,  who  felt  strangely  dull  and  heavy,  to 
climb  beneath  the  white  tilt  of  a  great  prairie 
wagon.  The  rear  of  the  clumsy  vehicle  was  piled 
up  with  dressed  skins,  upon  which  Tom  stretched 
his  aching  limbs,  after  vainly  trying  to  express  his 
thanks  connectedly. 

"  Hope  he  ain't  goin'  to  hev  a  fever;  wot'n  thun- 
der will  we  do  with  him  if  he  is  ?"  growled  Lund, 
in  an  undertone,  as  Nita  laid  her  cool  hand  on 
Tom's  burning  brow,  and  shook  her  head  doubt- 
fully. 

But  that  was  just  what  was  in  store  for  Tom 
Dean. 

Four  long  weeks  of  half  delirium,  burning  heat, 
and  torturing  thirst;  and  all  the  while  the  heavy 
prairie  schooner  went  creaking  and  rolling  over  the 
plains. 

But  through  all  this,  Nita,  the  Indian  woman,  and 
"Steve,"  as  Mr.  Lund  rendered  his  Mexican  name 
of  Stefano,  rode  close  beside  the  wagon  and  gave 
every  possible  attention  to  their  patient. 


THAT  TKEASURE.  86 

One  lovely  summer  evening  Tom  awoke  to  con- 
sciousness, to  find  the  tilted  wagon  at  a  standstill 
by  the  side  of  a  gently  flowing  stream,  bordered 
with  the  universal  cottonwood  and  willow.  All 
around  stood  the  picturesque  tepees  of  the  peaceful 
Navajos,  whcse  vast  herds  of  sheep  dotted  the  sur- 
rounding plain. 

"  I  don't  know  how  I  shall  ever  pay  you  for  all 
the  kindness  you  and  yours  have  shown  me,  Mr. 
Lund,"  said  Tom,  as  ho  sat  upright  on  the  pile  of 
buffalo  skins,  and  drank  in  the  free  life  giving  air. 

"  You  kin  pay  me,  if  you  wanter,  outer  one  o'  them 
thousan'  dollar  bills  that's  in  the  leather  memoran- 
dum book  I  dried  fer  you  along  of  your  clo'es,"  re- 
plied Lund.  He  allowed  no  false  delicacy  to  inter- 
fere with  business,  and  had  taken  Tom's  remark  in 
its  most  literal  sense. 

Tom  gazed  in  the  trader's  face  in  blank  astonish- 
ment. 

"I  don't  know  what  you  mean,"  he  returned;  bnt 
Mr.  Lund  only  laughed  grimly,  as  he  produced  the 
professor's  diary,  considerably  the  worse  for  its  wet- 
ting, from  an  inside  pocket. 

"No,  I  s'pose  not,"  was  the  dry  answer;  "only 
'pears  to  me  it's  a  kinder  resky  bizness  luggin'  five 
thousan'  dollars  round  in  a  kentry  \\har  yer  life 
wudn't  be  wuth  a  busted  ketrige  shell  ef  it  war 
knowed  you  hed  a  quarter  of  it." 

Extending  the  book  as  he  spoke,  Tom's  trembling 
fingers  released  the  elastic  band.  Between  the  dis- 
colored leaves,  where  in  some  places  the  writing 
was  almost  illegible,  lay  five  one  thousand  dollar 
notes,  not  very  much  the  worse  for  their  recent  wet- 
ting and  drying. 


86  THAT  TREASURE. 


CHAPTEK  XL 

BLACK  CLOUD,  THE  APACHE  CHIEF. 

LIKE  a  sudden  revelation,  it  was  all  made  plain  to 
Tom,  though  he  could  hardly  believe  the  evidence 
of  his  own  eye  sight. 

On  the  night  of  the  professor's  tragical  death, 
feeling  perhaps  more  than  usually  uneasy  about 
himself,  he  had  probably  mistrusted  the  safety  of  the 
little  legacy  which  he  had  intended  for  Tom. 

He  must  have  taken  the  bills  from  the  old  pocket 
book,  and  placed  them  carefully  between  the  leaves 
of  the  diary,  as  the  securest  hiding  place  he  could 
think  of;  or,  as  Tom  was  more  inclined  to  think, 
Professor  Dean  had  risen  in  his  sleep  and  thus  con- 
cealed them.  In  either  case  the  robber,  foiled  of 
his  plunder,  had  perhaps  allowed  some  expression 
of  anger  to  escape  his  lips,  thus  awaking  the 
professor,  who  had  succumbed  to  the  sudden  shock. 

Tom  had  carried  the  diary  in  an  inside  pocket  of 
his  woolen  shirt,  meaning  some  day  or  other  to  look 
it  over;  but  so  many  things  had  happened  since  the 
professor's  death,  that  he  had  never  done  as  he  in- 
tended. 

All  these  things  passed  rapidly  through  Tom's 
mind,  as  he  sat  holding  the  partly  open  diary  be- 
tween his  thin  fingers.  Mr.  Lund's  greedy  eyes 
were  covetously  fastened  on  the  five  greenbacks. 

"  I  kin  change  one  o'  them  bills,  if  you  say  so,"  h« 


THAT  TEEASUEE.  87 

insinuatingly  remarked.  Tom  roused  himself  from 
his  reverie. 

"  What  sort  of  an  outfit  can  you  supply  me  with  ?" 
he  asked,  "  and  what  will  it  cost  ?" 

The  question  was  music  to  the  trader's  ears. 
What  could  not  he  supply  in  the  way  of  an  outfit ': 
The  Indian  trader  is  not  supposed  to  deal  in  fire- 
arms or  ammunition,  yet  Mr.  Lund  was  able  to  fur- 
nish Tom  with  a  Winchester,  and  a  revolver,  to- 
gether with  an  abundant  supply  of  cartridges  for 
both.  A  stout  hunting  knife,  a  sombrero,  and  a 
haversack  containing  the  various  necessaries  of  the 
plainsman,  were  brought  forth  from  the  stores  of 
the  wagon .  Through  the  agency  of  the  trader,  Tom 
also  became  the  owner  of  a  sturdy  Navajo  pony, 
with  the  needed  equipments,  and  when  all  these 
were  reckoned  up,  and  Tom  had  made  a  liberal  pres- 
ent to  his  kindly  entertainer,  he  found  that  he  still 
had  five  hundred  dollars  out  of  the  broken  bank 
bill,  to  put  away  with  the  remaining  four  notes. 

"  An'  now  ef  you  wanter  keep  along  of  us  for  a 
spell  whilst  we're  a-workin'  to  the  nor'ard,  to'ards 
Holcomb,  whar  I'm  cal'latin'  to  store  the  wool  an' 
skins  I've  picked  up  this  trip,  you're  welkim  to,"  gra- 
ciously remarked  Mr.  Lund. 

Tom  gladly  accepted  the  offer.  He  had  grown 
very  fond  of  Stefano,  who,  though  quiet  and  reti- 
cent like  Nita,  was  very  intelligent,  a  perfect  horse- 
man, a  splendid  rifle  shot,  and  devoted  to  his  Indian 
mother. 

Moreover,  Tom  was  gaining  health  and  strength 
with  wonderful  rapidity  in  this  life  giving  air.  As 
he  learned  from  the  trader  that  the  wagon  trail  to 
Holcomb  passed  a  few  miles  to  the  westward  of  Bo- 
nanza City,  he  knew  it  would  be  wise  for  him  to 
journey  in  Mr.  Lund's  company  till  he  was  strong 
enough  to  strike  out  for  himself. 


88  THAT  TREASURE. 

Of  course  Tom's  one  definite  purpose  was  to  re- 
turn to  the  mining  camp,  to  learn  the  fate  of  his 
friends,  and  of  his  little  fortune  as  well.  That  the 
two  Chinamen  had  conspired  to  kill  and  plunder 
Mr.  Sherard  and  himself  was  beyond  the  shadow  of 
a  doubt.  How  far  their  dastardly  scheme  had  suc- 
ceeded, with  relation  to  the  former,  was  as  prob- 
lematical as  the  fate  of  Miss  Dolly.  Tom  ground 
his  teeth  in  silent  rage  as  he  thought  of  the  cold- 
blooded villainy  of  the  unscrupulous  fiends,  one  of 
whom  had  so  nearly  ended  his  own  life. 

Tom  was  sitting  near  the  wagon,  on  the  evening 
before  the  day  appointed  by  Mr.  Lund  for  their  de- 
parture. He  had  not  quite  regained  his  wonted 
strength ;  yet  every  day  was  adding  to  it.  His  face 
was  filling  out,  and  the  color  returning  to  his  pale 
cheeks.  In  fact,  Tom  Dean  was  beginning  to  feel 
something  like  his  former  self. 

Stefano  was  away  antelope  hunting.  Mr.  Lund 
was  at  the  further  end  of  the  Indian  settlement, 
closing  his  final  transaction  in  wool,  while  Nita 
stood  motionless  in  the  door  of  the  tepee.  Her  dark, 
melancholy  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  glowing  western 
sky.  She  wore  a  tunic  of  buckskin  reaching  to  the 
knee,  fringed  with  antelope  hide  cut  in  narrow 
strips;  leggins  of  the  same  material,  and  beaded 
moccasins,  with  a  scarlet  reboza  thrown  carelessly 
over  her  shoulders. 

"Nita  must  have  been  a  remarkably  handsome 
Indian  girl  when  she  married  her  first  husband,  the 
Mexican  ranchero^  mused  Tom,  to  whom  Stefano 
had  confided  part  of  their  simple  history;  "and  how 
she  ever  came  to  take  old  Lund,  who  must  be  al- 
most double  her  own  age,  for  number  two  beats 
me." 

As  these  thoughts  flitted  through  his  brain,  he 
saw  Nita  suddenly  draw  her  fine  figure  to  its  fullest 


THAT  TKEASUEE.  89 

height.  Her  dark  eyes  emitted  an  angry  light,  as 
they  rested  upon  the  form  of  an  approaching  horse- 
man, who  had  ridden  up  noiselessly  from  the  ford 
of  the  brawling  stream.  Tom  instinctively  reached 
out  for  his  rifle,  as  he  followed  the  direction  of  the 
Indian  woman's  look. 

The  object  of  Nita's  gaze  was  a  stalwart  and  brutal 
featured  Apache  Indian,  dressed  in  buckskin.  His 
saddle  was  an  elaborate  affair,  fringed  with  what 
were  evidently  scalp  locks.  The  cantle  was  notched 
for  the  rider's  heel,  so  that  he  could  swing  himself 
at  full  gallop  over  his  pony's  side,  with  his  left  arm 
thrust  through  the  rawhide  loop  which  hung  from 
the  pommel,  to  escape  flying  bullets. 

Tom  looked  round  for  Nita,  but  she  had  slipped 
into  the  tepee.  Keeping  the  tilted  cart  between  liim 
and  the  Navajo  encampment,  the  Indian  walked  his 
pony  toward  Tom,  as  the  latter  rose  quickly  to  his 
feet. 

"  Hu  !"  ejaculated  the  Apache,  with  a  scowl.  Tom 
showed  no  signs  of  being  overawed  by  this  warlike 
apparition,  but  rather  regarded  him  with  a  look  of 
extreme  dislike.  "  Where  ol'  Rube — eh  ?"  the  In- 
dian went  on. 

"  He's  away,"  curtly  answered  Tom. 

"JWay  where?"  was  the  response. 

"  I  don't  know,"  replied  Tom,  shortly  and  sharply, 
and  again  the  Apache  uttered  the  ejaculatory  "Hu!" 
and  seemed  to  study  what  next  to  say. 

"  Me  Black  Cloud — big  warrior,"  said  the  Indian, 
after  a  pause,  slapping  his  brawny  chest.  "  Me  come 
long  way  buy  ca'tridge  for  hunt  buff'lo  nex'  mont'. 
Plenty  money  have — s'pose  you  sell  um  all  same  ol' 
Rube." 

"  1  haven't  anything  to  do  with  Mr.  Lund's  busi- 
ness, and  if  I  had  I  wouldn't  sell  you  a  cartridge  to 
save  your  worthless  life !"  Tom  blazed  out.  For  the 


90  THAT  TREASURE. 

sight  of  a  few  short  blonde  tresses  among  the  scalp 
locks  which  decorated  the  Indian's  saddle  naps  had 
stirred  him  to  the  quick.  He  felt  his  anger  rising 
higher  and  higher  as  he  stood  facing  the  scowling 
Apache,  who  at  that  moment,  as  Tom  was  quite  sure, 
was  decked  out  with  the  arms  and  equipments  taken 
from  some  slain  victim. 

Suddenly  Nita  stepped  from  the  tepee,  her  dark 
eyes  flashing  with  mingled  excitement  and  wrath; 
and  without  a  word  she  leveled  the  cocked  rifle  in 
her  hands  at  Black  Cloud's  breast. 

"Nita!"  cried  Tom,  springing  forward.  But  her 
finger  was  already  touching  the  trigger,  and  the  In- 
dian, who  was  sitting  as  though  paralyzed  at  the 
sudden  apparition,  involuntarily  closed  his  eyes. 

"Click!"  and  the  hammer  fell  on  the  edge  of  an 
imperfect  cartridge. 

Before  the  disappointed  Indian  woman  could  re- 
cock  tne  rifle,  Black  Cloud,  with  a  triumphant  yell, 
wheeled  his  pony  sharply  round  and  dashed  away  at 
full  speed  across  the  shallow  creek.  He  was  fol- 
lowed by  an  ineffectual  ball  from  the  rifle  of  old 
Rube's  step  son,  who  had  that  moment  appeared  on 
the  scene. 

Nita  looked  reproachfully  at  her  weapon  as  the 
Indian  disappeared  behind  a  sand  hill  on  the  oppo- 
site side  of  the  creek. 

"Not  miss  next  time, "  she  muttered,  vengefully; 
"life  for  life— he  kill  my  husban  —I  kill  him." 

At  this  moment  Mr.  Lund  arrived  upon  the 
scene. 

"Now,  then,  what  does  all  this  'ere  mean?"  he 
fiercely  demanded,  clutching  at  the  shoulder  of  his 
step  son,  while  Tom  stood  looking  from  one  to  the 
other  in  mute  astonishment. 

Nita  stepped  swiftly  between  the  two  men. 

"You  dare  lay  a  finger  on  my  Stefano  1"  she  ex> 


THAT  TREASURE.  91 

claimed,  in  a  voice  of  repressed  passion;  and  the 
trader  stepped  back  with  something  like  alarm  on 
his  rugged  features. 

"  She's  goin'  to  hev  one  uv  her  tantrums,"  Tom 
heard  him  mutter  under  his  breata;  but  Nita  went 
on  as  though  she  had  not  heard  him. 

"  Black  Cloud  shoot  my  husban'  Manuel  three 
year  'go  on  our  ranch,"  she  said,  fiercely;  "you 
know  that  ?" 

It  was  evident  from  his  look  of  something  like  dis- 
comfiture that  Mr.  Lund  had  not  known  it. 

"  Lord,  no,  Nita,"  he  replied,  in  a  subdued  voice; 
"  you  never  said  who  it  were,  an'  I  never  heard  no 
one  say " 

"  He  shoot  him,  that  why  I  try  kill  him,"  inter- 
rupted Stefano,  bending  his  flashing  eyes  upon  his 
step  father's  abashed  face,  "  an'  next  time  I  shoot 
more  straight." 

"  Oh,  come  now,  Steve,"  began  the  trader,  coax- 
ingly,  and  evading  the  point  at  issue;  "there  ain't 
no  use  makin'  all  this  fuss.  Black  Cloud  is  after 
buff'ler,  that's  all.  D'ye  suppose,"  he  added,  in  a 
louder  voice,  as  Stefano  turned  away  with  a  con- 
temptuous gesture,  "  I'd  sell  ketridges  to  him  or 
any  other  Injun,  if  I  thought  they  wanted  'em  for 
anythin'  but  huntin'  ?" 

"  Yes,"  scornfully  replied  Nita;  "  I  s'pose  you  sell 
me — sell  Stefano — so  you  gets  plenty  moneys.  But 
look  out !"  she  added,  raising  her  hand  warningly  as 
Lund  was  about  to  reply;  "  look  out;  mebbe  some 
day  Black  Cloud  shoot  you,  same  he  did  Manuel, 
an'  use  same  catridge  you  sell  him." 

Drawing  herself  proudly  erect  as  she  uttered  this 
cheerful  prophecy,  Nita  followed  her  son  into  the 
tepee. 

On  the  following  morning  the  mules  were  har- 
nessed up,  the  ponies  saddled;  and  before  the  sun 


92  THAT  TREASURE. 

had  fairly  raised  his  ruddy  face  above  the  distant 
ranges  of  wooded  hills  in  the  east,  the  little  caval- 
cade was  in  motion. 

The  trader  himself  was  singularly  gloomy  and 
depressed  for  a  man  who  had  cleared  at  least  a  thou-' 
sand  dollars  by  his  exchange  and  barter  with  the 
Navajos.  He  talked  but  little,  and  Tom  noticed 
that  he  was  continually  sweeping  the  distant  hori- 
zon with  an  old  field  glass  which  was  among  the 
w  ago  u  stores. 

"He  begin  to  be  'fraid  that  Nita  said  true,"  ob^ 
served  Stefano,  in  an  undertone,  as  he  called  the  at' 
tention  of  Tom  to  his  step  father's  manifest  uneasi- 
ness. 

But  neither  Stefano  nor  Nita,  who  rode  her  pony 
man  fashion,  a  little  in  the  rear,  made  any  fuither 
allusion  to  the  incidents  of  the  previous  afternoon, 
rather  to  Tom's  relief. 

Day  after  day  the  heavy  wagon  rolled  onward 
without  interruption,  though  monotonously  alterna- 
ting sand  barrens,  alkali  plains,  and  rolling  prairie; 
and  Tom  began  to  weary  of  the  unvarying  sameness 
of  the  scenery. 

Something  of  this  he  hinted  to  the  trader  one  af- 
ternoon, about  ten  days  after  leaving  the  Navajo 
settlement. 

"  Wall,  jest  to  accommodate,  I've  b'en  keepin' 
c'nsider'ble  furder  to  the  west'ard  this  return  trip," 
replied  Lund;  "  an'  if  all  goes  well  I  cal'late  by  ter- 
night  we'll  camp  alongside  Bonanza  River,  not  but 
a  little  ways  above  the  canyon  you  come  through 
the  night  you  run  acrost  us."  And  very  much  as- 
tonished, no  less  than  delighted,  was  Tom,  when 
with  his  whipstock  the  trader  pointed  out  the  blue 
thread  of  the  river  in  the  distance. 

Tom  shrewdly  suspected  that  the  change  of  route 
had  not  been  made  so  much  for  his  own  accommo- 


THAT  TEEASURE.  93 

dation  as  to  insure  the  certainty  of  his  further  com- 
panionship as  far  as  Holcomb,  Mr.  Lund  having  not 
yet  recovered  from  his  Indian  scare. 

By  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  the  distant  set- 
tlement was  in  sight,  and,  hastily  explaining  his  in- 
tentions to  Nita  aud  Stefano,  Tom  rode  rapidly  for- 
ward, leaving  the  wagon  to  follow  at  a  slow  pace  to 
a  camping  place  on  the  river  banks. 

With  a  beating  heart  he  urged  his  pony  up  the 
slight  ascent  leading  to  the  little  bridge,  which  he 
had  crossed  so  many  weeks  before  with  his  three 
companions. 

But — what  was  this  ?  As  the  pony's  feet  clattered 
over  the  rough  boarding  of  the  bridge,  which  seemed 
to  have  been  newly  restored,  he  was  fain  to  rub  his 
eyes  and  stare  about  him  in  bewildered  astonish- 
ment. 

Bonanza  City,  but  no  longer  deserted !  Smoke 
was  rising  from  some  of  the  stone  chimneys.  The 
once  grass  grown  street  was  trodden  quite  hard  and 
smooth.  Many  of  the  shaky  frame  buildings  had 
been  repaired;  some  had  new  tent  shaped  roofs,  and 
moving  here  and  there  through  the  long  main 
thoroughfare  were  roughly  dressed  individuals  in 
mining  costume. 

Nor  were  the  changes  confined  to  the  town  alone. 
The  hillsides,  where  Tom  had  toiled  with  Mr. 
Sherard,  were  dotted  with  men.  Great  gullies, 
trenches  and  ditches  could  be  seen,  and  cavities  in 
the  slope  where  tons  of  earth  had  been  dislodged 
by  hydraulic  streams  from  a  "Little  Giant"  nozzle. 
An  immense  flume  extended  downward  from  the 
hillside  nearly  as  far  as  the  bridge,  along  which  the 
miners  were  busy  with  pick  and  spade. 


94  THAT  TREASURE. 


CHAPTEE  XIL 

A   CHANGE   AT    BONANZA    CITY. 

OF  course  it  was  at  once  apparent  to  Tom  that  a 
new  colony  had  struck  Bonanza  City.  With  a 
strange  mixture  of  emotions  he  turned  his  pony's 
head  towards  the  Retreat,  which  had  been  the  scene 
of  so  many  tragic  events. 

Three  or  four  men  were  lounging  about  the  door, 
as  Tom  sprang  from  his  saddle.  The  Retreat 
seemed  to  have  undergone  the  same  renovation  as 
the  other  buildings.  The  doors  were  restored  to 
place,  whole  glass  had  been  substituted  for  the 
broken  panes,  and  from  the  barroom  came  the 
sound  of  loud  laughter  and  clinking  tumblers. 

Something  else  came  from  the  barroom.  It  was 
an  immense  brindle  mastiff,  whose  joyous  whimper 
was  echoed  by  Tom's  exclamation  of  astonishment 
and  delight.  Amid  the  audibly  expressed  amaze- 
ment of  the  bystanders,  the  great  dog  planted  its 
huge  fore  feet  against  Tom's  shoulders,  and  tried  to 
lick  his  face  with  its  rough  tongue. 

"Hallo,  Bob  Cope,  come  out  here  and  see  yer  big 
dog  makin'  love  to  this  stranger,"  called  out  one  of 
the  idlers. 

Bob  Cope  !  Why,  that  was  the  name  of  William's 
former  mining  companion.  But  how  had  Brave — 
for,  indeed,  it  was  the  sturdy  old  mastiff — come  to 
be  called  Bob  Cope's  dog?  And  even  as  he  re- 
turned Brave's  eager  caresses,  Tom's  heart  sank  like 


THAT  TREASURE.  95 

lead.  Where,  then,  was  Mr.  Sherard — and  where 
was  Dolly? 

A  heavily  built  man,  wearing  a  clay  soiled  woolen 
ehirt  and  dilapidated  trousers  tucked  into  long 
'legged  rubber  boots,  came  out  on  the  rough  stoop, 
followed  by  two  or  three  others. 

"  It's  the  fust  time  I  ever  see  Brave  take  notice  of 
a  stranger;  reck'n  he  must  a  seen  you  before,  young 
feller,"  remarked  Bob  Cope,  before  Tom  could  put 
the  question  which  was  trembling  on  his  tongue. 

"Brave  and  I  are  old  acquaintances,"  returned 
Tom,  setting  his  rifle  against  the  side  of  the  house. 
"  He  belonged  to  a  Mr.  Sherard,  who,  with  his 
daughter,  is  a  friend  of  mine,  and  we  three  were  the 
only  occupants  of  Bonanza  City  for  quite  a  little 
time,  till  a  few  weeks  ago — " 

"Wai,  I'll  be  skelped!" 

Bob's  abrupt  and  somewhat  unusual  exclamation 
had  brought  Tom's  explanation  to  a  sudden  close; 
he  clapped  his  huge  hand  on  Tom's  shoulder  and 
stared  at  him  in  open  mouthed  amazement ! 

"  Boys,"  he  said,  turning  to  the  interested  onlook- 
ers, "  hyar's  a — a — reg'lar  com — bination.  This 
here,  I  reckon,  is  the  youug  chap  Mr.  Sherard  an' 
Miss  Dolly — 'specially  she — took  on  so  about,  when 
I  broke  the  news  to  'em  of  how  we  foun'  the  signs 
where  he'd  be'n  shot  an'  throwed  inter  the  stream 
by  one  o'  them  Chinymen.  Here  he  is — fer  he  don't 
deny  his  own  name — riz  as  it  were  from  the  dead  ; 
an'  his  fren's  has  gone  off,  the  Lord  only  knows 
where,  a-mournin'  fer  him  as  layin'  in  the  silent 
tomb,  or  leastwise  shot  an'  drownded,  which  is  nigh 
about  the  same.  The  very  fellow,"  continued  Mr. 
Cope,  who  seemed  almost  moved  to  tears  by  his  own 
eloquence,  "  as  Mr.  Sherard  toF  me  my  respectid 
fren'  an*  late  pardner  William — unhappily  deceased 
through  a  yeller  skinned  Chinyman — allowed  to  be 


96  THAT  TEEASUKE. 

as  plucky  a  young  chap  as  need  be  ;  an'  praise  from 
the  lamented  William  was  wuth  havin'." 

Tom  Dean's  reception  by  the  miners  of  Bonanza, 
after  Cope's  introduction,  was  cordial  in  the  ex- 
treme. So  much  so,  in  fact,  that  he  found  it  diffi- 
cult to  refuse  the  natural  outcome  of  Western* 
cordiality,  in  the  shape  of  invitations  to  drink, 
without  giving  offense. 

But  steadfastly  declining  the  various  proffers  of 
the  kind  Tom  stood  firmly  outside  the  barroom 
door,  where  he  was  joined  by  Bob  Cope,  who  mo- 
tioned him  to  a  seat  beside  himself,  on  the  wooden 
bench  on  the  stoop. 

While  his  companion  was  filling  and  lighting  his 
pipe,  Tom  gave  him  a  brief  account  of  his  own  nar- 
row escape  from  death  at  the  hands  of  one  of  the 
Chinamen,  and  his  subsequent  meeting  with  the  In- 
dian trader. 

"You  had  a  close  call,  for  a  fact,"  remarked  Bob, 
with  a  glance  at  the  newly  healed  wound  as  Tom  re- 
moved his  sombrero;  "an*  I  reck'n  that  twixt  the 
shootin'  an'  bein'  kerried  through  the  Black  Canyon, 
an'  over  the  fall,  you.  won't  cjme  no  nigher  passin* 
in  yer  checks,  if  you  live  to  be  older'n  Methusalem." 

"  But  Mr.  Sherard  and  Miss  Dolly — what  of  them, 
Mr.  Cope  ?"  impatiently  interrupted  Tom. 

Whereupon  with  provoking  deliberation  the 
miner  told  his  eager  listener  the  facts  concerning 
the  two,  with  which  we  are  already  familiar. 

"  An'  now  about  the  gol',"  Cope  went  on.  "  Sher- 
ard was  dretf  ul  put  to  it  to  know  what  to  do  with 
your  half.  From  what  you'd  tol'  him,  he  said,  he 
didn't  know  as  you'd  a  relashun  in  the  world,  an1 
bein'  mor'lly  certing — them  wuz  his  own  words — • 
you  had  diseased  this  life,  he  didn't  know  how  to 
figger  it  no  way." 

"  Well,"  said  Tom,  as  Cope  calmly  paused. 


THAT  TREASURE.  97 

"  He  left  it  to  us  finlly,"  Mr.  Cope  went  on, "  an'  we 
settled  it  tbis  way  ;  accordiu'  to  minin'  reggerla- 
shuns,  he,  as  survivin'  pardner,  wuz  warranted  in 
takin'  your  pile  hisself,  an'  holdin'  of  hisself  re- 
sponserbel  if  any  legal  claimant  ever  turned  up. 
So,  arter  it  wuz  settled,  Mr.  Sherard  an'  Miss  Dolly 
lef  far  Holcom',  along  of  one  uv  our  wagins  that 
was  goin'  after  more  supplies  ;  fer  we  struck  the  pay 
sti'eak  all  right  the  secon'  day,  an'  are  makin'  a  good 
thing  uv  it,  considerin'." 

"But  where  were  they  going  from  Holcomb?" 
eagerly  inquired  Tom. 

This  was  the  most  important  point  of  all.  Bob 
Cope  was  unable  to  answer.  No  one  had  thought 
to  inquire,  and  Mr.  Sherard  had  omitted  to  leave 
anything  like  a  future  address.  They  had  reluct- 
antly left  Brave  behind,  on  account,  as  Mr.  Sherard 
said,  of  the  uncertainty  of  his  further  movements. 
Tom  had  heard  the  former  mention  New  York  as  hia 
native  city,  and  as  the  residence  of  friends  and  rela- 
tives ;  yet  there  was  no  certainty  that  he  had  gone 
thither. 

"You  can  fin' out  likely  enough  by  inquirin'  to 
Holcom'  whar  they  bought  tickets  fer,"  suggested 
Cope,  as  Tom,  with  a  troubled  face,  recalled  these 
facts.  With  this  scanty  grain  of  comfort,  and  the 
assurance  of  his  friends'  safety,  he  was  fain  to  be 
content. 

"  Holcom',"  continued  Cope,  meditatively,  as  Tom 
rose  to  take  his  departure,  "  Holcom',  fer  its  size,  is 
one  o'  the  liveliest  an*  sosherblest  little  minin' 
towns  this  side  the  Rockies,  considerin'  that  eight 
year  or  so  ago  I've  seen  buff'ler  shot  whar  the  main 
street  is,  but " 

"  But  what  ? "  inquired  his  hearer,  as  the  miner 
paused,  with  a  dubious  shake  of  his  head. 

"  Wall,  it's  here,"  said  Bob,  with  a  little  embar- 


98  THAT   TREASURE. 

rassment;  "the  Holcom'  boys  is  a  bit  techy,  ef  they 
run  across  a  stranger  that  don't  corne  to  time  when 
he's  ast  to  drink.  Ef  I  wuz  you,  speakin'  as  a  frieu', 
I  wouldn't  be  offish,  like  you  wuz  with  the  fellers  in 
thar,"  indicating  by  a  gesture  the  barroom,  from 
which  came  the  sound  of  loud  voices,  and  louder 
laughter. 

"  I  don't  mean  to  be  rude,"  firmly  replied  Tom, 
"  but  I  never  yet  touched  liquor,  and  what's  more, 
I  never  mean  to.  And  the  Holcomb  boys,  or  any 
one  else,  will  find  it  hard  work  to  drive  me  into 
doing  anything  I  don't  think  is  right,"  he  added, 
with  a  certain  compression  of  his  lips,  which 
brought  an  involuntary  nod  of  approval  from  the 
miner. 

"  I  ruther  guess  they  would,"  he  remarked,  dryly; 
"  you  don't  look  like  a  chap  that  could  be  played 
fer  a  tenderfoot  easy.  I  guess,  by  the  look  uv 
things,"  Bob  continued,  with  a  glance  at  Brave,  who 
had  started  to  his  feet  when  Tom  rose,  and  was 
looking  anxiously  in  his  face,  "  thet  I'll  hev  to  let 
Brave  go  along  uv  you  whether  I  want  to  or  not — 
here,  Brave,  Brave  1 " 

But  the  mastiff  paid  not  the  slightest  heed.  He 
followed  close  at  Tom's  heels,  as  the  latter  re- 
mounted his  pony,  and  had  evidently  made  up  his 
mind  to  stick  by  him. 

"  I  shall  be  only  too  glad  to  have  him,"  was  the 
hearty  rejoinder. 

"  An'  say,"  continued  Cope,  stooping  down  from 
the  stoop  and  resting  his  hand  on  the  saddle  bow, 
"I  don't  like  ol'  Babe  Lund  none  too  well,  for  I 
know  he's  sold  army  muskits  an'  ammynishun  to 
reservashun  Injuns  on  the  sly;  but  you  can  tell  him 
frum  me,  that  he'd  better  keep  the  ol'  wagin  trail  to 
Holcom'  instid  uv  crossin'  the  divide.  Some  of  our 
fellers  see  plenty  of  Tache  signs  within  five  miles 


THAT  TREASURE.  99 

of  here,  on'y  two  days  ago.  I  don't  keer  much  wot 
comes  to  him,"  added  Cope,  with  unpleasant  frank- 
ness, "  but  I  wouldn't  want  you  to  come  to  harm; 
no  more  I  wouldn't  that  ar'  Injun  wife  an'  her  boy, 
both  uv  which  is  a  heap  too  good  fer  him;  so  keep 
yer  eyes  peeled,  an'  good  luck  go  with  you." 

"With  this  friendly  injunction  and  wish  ringing  in 
his  ears,  Tom,  having  heartily  shaken  the  hand  of 
the  sturdy  miner,  turned  his  horse's  head  away  from 
the  little  settlement,  where  lights  were  beginning 
to  appear  in  some  of  the  windows,  and  rode  across 
the  bridge  through  the  fast  gathering  twilight. 


THAT  TREASURE. 


CHAPTEE  XJIL 

A    TRAGEDY    ON    THE   PLAINS. 

IN  vain  Tom  glanced  up  and  down  the  banks  of 
the  stream.  No  sign  of  firelight  could  be  seen, 
though  at  the  ordinary  rate  of  travel,  Lund  and  his 
little  party  should  have  reached  their  camping  spot 
long  before. 

Thinking  every  moment  to  hear  the  creaking  of 
the  heavy  wagon,  and  old  Rube's  profanely  ener- 
getic remarks  addressed  to  the  mule  team,  Tom 
urged  his  pony  forward  along  the  almost  indistin- 
guishable trail.  It  was  possible  that  a  tire  might 
have  come  off,  or  an  axle  broken.  Both  of  these 
accidents  had  occurred  during  the  trip,  and  they 
•would  readily  account  for  the  delay;  so  he  felt  no 
particular  uneasiness  until  a  low  whine  from 
Brave  caused  him  to  pull  up  his  pony  and  listen  in- 
tently. 

Far  away,  and  in  a  direction  quite  contrary  to 
that  which  he  had  expected,  sounded  the  roll  of 
the  heavy  wagon  wheels  through  the  stillness  of  the 
night. 

"  They  must  have  got  off  the  track  somehow,  and 
are  going  in  the  wrong  direction  for  the  river," 
thought  Tom,  with  a  feeling  of  relief.  Unwisely  he 
left  the  trail,  a  well  worn  buffalo  path  of  other  days, 
and  urged  his  pony  forward  in  the  direction  of  the 


THAT  TREASURE.  101 

sounds  he  had  heard,  occasionally  shouting  Lund's 
name. 

Suddenly  the  pony  stopped  with  a  snort  of  terror, 
which  was  echoed  by  a  deep  growl  from  the  mastiff, 
'  who  was  keeping  a  little  in  advance. 

"Afraid  of  a  dead  tree  trunk — get  on  with  you  !" 
exclaimed  Tom,  in  an  irritated  tcne,  as  he  saw  an 
indistinct  dark  shape  lying  on  a  grayish  soil. 

But  his  pony,  usually  tractable  and  obedient,  re- 
fused to  budge;  while  Brave,  with  bristling  back 
and  repeated  growls,  stood  "  pointing  "  at  the  ob- 
ject in  evident  uneasiness. 

"Now  what  on  earth — "  began  Tom;  and  spring- 
ing from  the  saddle  he  fumbled  in  his  haversack, 
where  he  succeeded  in  finding  a  solitary  match.  As 
he  struck  it  sharply  on  the  barrel  of  his  rifle,  his 
pony,  with  another  snort,  wheeled  about  and  gal- 
loped off  at  full  speed — whether  in  the  direction  of 
the  mining  town  or  not  Tom  was  unable  to  tell,  for 
he  was  completely  turned  round ! 

But  his  vexation  at  tbis  unexpected  mishap  was 
lost  sight  of  for  the  moment  in  the  shock  he  re- 
ceived when,  by  the  glimmer  of  the  lighted  match, 
he  saw  before  him  the  lifeless  body  of  a  man. 

Applying  the  match  with  shaking  fingers  to  a 
bunch  of  dried  sage  brush  which  he  hastily  pulled, 
Tom  uttered  a  great  exclamation  of  horror. 

It  was  Rube  Lund  himself  who  lay  pierced  with  a 
score  of  Indian  arrows,  with  ghastly,  upturned  f^^ce 
and  outstretched  hands.  It  was  a  sight  which 
haunted  Tom's  dreams  for  many  a  night  afterward. 

And  now  it  was  that  Tom  Dean's  zeal  far  outran 
his  good  judgment.  He  thought  of  Nita  and  her 
step  son,  to  whose  care  and  nursing  he  probably 
owed  his  life,  as  prisoners  in  the  hands  of  redskins 
who  had  slain  the  old  trader,  and  were  driving  off 
his  wagon. 


102  THAT  TKEASUKE. 

Before  he  could  reach  the  settlement,  by  the  as- 
sistance of  the  mastiff's  sagacity,  and  give  the 
alarm,  the  Indians  and  their  captives  would  be  miles 
away.  He  had  learned  from  William  that  the 
Apaches  hated  the  Navajos  with  a  hatred  equaling 
that  of  the  latter  for  the  former,  and  he  did  not* 
doubt  that  Nita  or  her  son  would  be  put  to  torture 
at  the  first  available  moment. 

If  he  could  emulate  some  of  the  border  heroes  of 
whom  he  had  read  and  heard,  and  contrive  in  some 
way  by  stealth  or  stratagem  to  at  least  make  an 
effort  to  release  his  friends  ! 

As  these  thoughts  passed  rapidly  through  his 
mind,  Tom  pulled  his  handkerchief  from  his  neck 
and  knotted  it  to  Brave's  collar. 

"  Go,  Brave,"  he  whispered,  pointing  in  the  direc- 
tion in  which  he  supposed  Bonanza  City  might  be. 
The  mastiff  hesitated  and  held  back,  looking  in 
Tom's  face  as  though  to  beg  that  he  might  not  be 
sent  away. 

" Go !"  repeated  Tom  in  a  sharp  undertone;  and 
with  evident  reluctance  Brave  disappeared. 

Again  the  faint  and  distant  creaking  of  the  pond- 
erous wagon  wheels  reached  Tom's  ear.  With  a 
slight  shudder  he  stepped  over  the  inanimate  form 
of  old  Rube  Lund,  and  followed  as  rapidly  as  he 
could  in  the  direction  of  the  sound. 

Tom  felt  sure,  whether  he  succeeded  in  his  own 
undertaking  or  not,  that  the  miners  would  sooner 
or  later  follow,  if  Brave  himself  reached  the  settle- 
ment to  lead  them  back. 

So  reasoning,  he  hurried  forward  as  fast  as  pos- 
sible, guided  by  the  sound  of  the  wheels  grinding 
over  the  dry,  caked  soil.  As  the  moon  began  show- 
ing her  face  over  the  nearest  range,  Tom  caught  a 
glance  of  the  white  wagon  tilt  entering  a  dark  de- 
file between  two  tolerably  well  wooded  hills,  through 


THAT  TKEASUKE.  108 

which  he  remembered  having  passed  that  very 
afternoon. 

"  I  wonder  how  much  further  they  mean  to  go," 
muttered  Tom,  discontentedly.  As  he  reached  the 
deep  shadows  cast  by  the  overhanging  cliff  at  the 
entrance,  his  question  was  answered  by  the  glimmer 
of  a  newly  started  camp  fire.  As  it  blazed  into 
brightness,  Tom  counted  something  like  a  dozen  or 
more  dark  forms  dismounting  from  their  ponies.  He 
crept  nearer,  perfectly  sheltered  by  the  underbrush, 
and  saw  the  tired  mules  untethered  from  the  wagon, 
and  led  to  a  mountain  pool  or  spring  close  by. 

Sheltered  by  a  dense  thicket  of  mesquite,  Tom, 
not  twenty  feet  from  the  blaze,  could  see  and  hear 
all  that  passed  without  incurring  the  slightest  risk 
of  detection. 

And  the  first  discovery  he  made  as  the  band 
gathered  about  the  blaze,  toasting  strips  of 
*'  jerked  "  deer  meat  over  the  glowing  embers,  was 
that  Black  Cloud,  whose  ferocious  features  and  un- 
usually burly  build  he  would  have  recognized 
among  a  thousand,  was  the  leader  of  the  gang. 

That  Nita  and  Stefano  were  nowhere  to  be  seen, 
was  his  next  discovery.  A  moment  or  two  later, 
however,  in  obedience  to  a  muttered  order  from 
Black  Cloud,  one  of  the  Apaches  approached  and 
threw  back  the  wagon  tilt,  and  Tom  caught  a 
glimpse  of  two  forms,  lying  on  the  skins  or  wool 
packs,  which  he  felt  sure  were  those  of  the  prisoners. 

The  hours  wore  on,  and  Tom  listened  in  vain  for 
any  sound  or  sign  to  tell  him  that  the  Bonanza  City 
miners  were  anywhere  in  the  vicinity.  One  after 
another  of  the  Apaches  wrapped  himself  in  his 
blanket  and  lay  down  with  his  feet  to  the  blaze, 
leaving  Black  Cloud  and  four  others  standing  guard, 
more  from  habit,  it  seemed,  than  from  fear  of  lurk- 
ing enemies. 


104  THAT  TREASURE. 

Only  Black  Cloud  and  two  or  three  of  his  sub- 
ordinates had  firearms.  The  others  were  provided 
with  the  knife,  hatchet,  and  stout  lancewoud  bow, 
which  latter,  even  at  the  present  day,  is  carried,  in 
addition  to  a  rifle,  by  some  of  the  border  tribes. 

From  this,  Tom  inferred  that  the  main  object  of 
capturing  the  wagon  had  been  to  obtain  more  fire- 
arms. That  they  had  been  disappointed  in  this, 
Tom  was  quite  sure;  he  remembered  having  heard 
the  trader  say  that  he  had  sold  the  last  of  a  few 
condemned  army  carbines  to  the  Navajos  of  whom 
he  had  purchased  his  wool. 

As  he  was  vaguely  conjecturing  what  the  Apaches 
would  do  with  their  prize,  and  wishing  that  the 
dozing  sentinels  would  drift  off  into  slumber,  so 
that  he  could  attempt  his  release  of  the  two 
captives,  Black  Cloud  rose,  and  walked  to  the 
wagon. 

A  moment  later  Kita  and  her  son  were  assisted 
rather  rudely  to  the  ground,  the  thongs  about  their 
ankles  being  loosened  enough  to  allow  them  to  be 
led  nearer  the  fire.  A  skin  was  thrown  on  the 
ground,  upon  which  the  two  captives  were  forced 
to  recline. 

Black  Cloud  rolled  himself  in  his  blanket  and  lay 
down  a  few  feet  away,  with  his  gun  at  his  side.  A 
tall  Apache  sat  on  the  other  side  of  the  prisoners, 
with  his  back  against  a  rock;  the  glow  of  the  fire 
threw  his  ferocious  features  into  strong  relief  as  he, 
from  time  to  time,  drowsily  replenished  the  fire. 

An  idea  occurred  to  Tom.  Softly  withdrawing 
from  the  thicket,  he  made  a  long  detour  which 
brought  him  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  fire,  still 
hidden  by  the  dense  underbrush.  Here,  he  worked 
away  with  his  hunting  knife  as  noiselessly  as  pos- 
sible, and  succeeded  in  cutting  and  trimming  a  long 
stout  sapling. 


THAT  TBEASUKE.  105 

To  one  end  of  this  he  laslied  the  handle  of  the 
keen  double  edged  knife,  with  a  thong  of  dried  elk 
skin  which  he  found  in  his  haversack. 

Leaving  his  rifle  where  he  could  find  it,  Tom  laid 
himself  flat  on  the  ground  and  began  worming  him- 
self through  the  thick  clumps  of  alder  and  bois 
d'arc,  dragging  the  pole  after  him,  till  he  reached 
the  edge  of  the  little  clearing  in  which  the  fire  was 
built. 

Had  not  the  Apaches  been  so  certain  of  their  per- 
fect security,  Tom  could  never  have  reached  this 
point  without  betraying  his  presence.  He  was  not 
skilled  enough  in  woodcraft  to  imitate  the  noiseless 
movement  of  the  redskin  or  crafty  scout. 

The  rustle  of  the  leaves,  the  occasional  snap  of  a 
twig,  and  similar  trifling  sounds,  would  have  been 
at  once  detected;  but  the  old  Apache's  usually 
sharp  ear  was  dulled,  and  his  eyes  heavy  with  sleep, 
against  the  approach  of  which  he  was  spasmodic- 
ally struggling. 

Nearer  and  yet  nearer,  and  with  his  heart  in  his 
mouth,  Tom  began  extending  the  pole,  inch  by  inch, 
beyond  him,  till  the  end  with  the  hunting  knife 
touched  the  shoulder  of  Stefano,  whose  eyes  turned 
downward  toward  it. 

Not  a  muscle  of  his  dark  face  moved.  Without 
changing  the  position  of  his  body,  he  succeeded  in 
bringing  his  bound  wrists  to  the  ground  in  such  a 
way  that  Tom  began  softly  sawing  away  at  the  raw- 
hide thongs. 

Suddenly  the  sentinel  Apache  uttered  a  convul- 
sive snort,  opened  his  eyes  and  glanced  sharply 
about  him.  Tom,  almost  paralyzed  with  fear,  sus- 
pended operations,  and  held  his  very  breath. 

The  Indian  looked  at  his  prisoners,  but  they  were 
lying  motionless,  with  closed  eyes.  Luckily  the 
pole  itself  was  hidden  by  the  short,  thick  grass. 


106  THAT  TKEASURE. 

The  Apache  tossed  another  billet  of  dry  wood  upon 
the  fire,  and  pulled  his  greasy  blanket  a  little  more 
closely  about  his  neck.  He  listened  intently  for  a 
moment,  and  then  fell  into  another  doze. 

One  or  two  more  movements,  and  the  sapling  was 
softly  drawn  from  Tom's  hands!  A  breathless 
pause  ensued,  during  which,  as  Tom  conjectured, 
Stefauo  was  getting  the  knife  loose.  Then  he  saw 
the  Indian  lad  reaching  down  and  severing  the 
lashings  about  his  own  and  his  mother's  ankles ! 
Nita's  wrists  were  then  freed — and  wrhat  next  ? 

"Good  heavens!"  muttered  Tom.  "I  never 
thought  of  that !" 

For  each  had  risen  to  a  half  sitting  posture. 
Stefano,  whose  glowing  eyes  were  steadfastly  fixed 
on  the  sleeping  guard,  as  though  to  spring  tipon 
him  like  a  young  mountain  tiger  at  the  first  sign  of 
his  awaking,  silently  passed  the  knife  to  Nita. 

Drawing  her  lithe  form  forward,  the  Indian 
woman  crept  snake-like  toward  her  enf  my,  Black 
Cloud,  the  slayer  of  her  Mexican  husband. 

"With  every  nerve  at  a  tension,  Tom  watched  her 
stealthy  progress  till  she  had  reached  the  chief's 
side.  Then,  as  she  raised  her  bared  right  arm,  the 
blade  of  the  hunting  knife  glittered  a  moment  in 
the  firelight  and  descended. 

But  just  at  that  instant  the  Indian  turned  in  his 
slumber,  and  the  keen  blade,  intended  for  his  heart, 
missed  its  aim  and  buried  itself  in  the  fleshy  part  of 
Black  Cloud's  shoulder. 

The  yell  which  escaped  the  awakened  Apache's 
lips  as  Nita  sprang  to  her  feet,  holding  the  dripping 
knife  clutched  in  her  fingers,  was  echoed  by  one  of 
exultation  from  Stefano,  as  together  the  two  darted 
into  the  cover  of  the  heavy  growth,  and  in  an  in- 
stant were  swallowed  up  in  the  darkness. 

As  yell  after  yell  rent  the  air,  Tom  slipped  back 


THAT  TKEASUKE.  107 

and  secured  his  rifle.  So,  far,  everything  haa  suc- 
ceeded even  beyond  his  highest  expectations;  he 
had  secured  the  freedom  of  his  friends,  and  now  he 
must  look  to  his  own  safety.  The  intense  darkness 
was,  of  course,  greatly  in  his  favor,  but  blundering 
about  at  midnight  among  a  thick  growth  of  young 
walnut  and  scrub  oak  was  both  difficult  and  danger- 
ous. Tom  dared  not  attempt  to  return  to  the  more 
open  plain  by  way  of  the  mouth  of  the  defile,  for 
the  entire  camp  was  now  aroused,  and  that  point 
would  certainly  be  guarded. 

Oh,  if  Brave's  mission  had  only  succeeded,  and 
the  plainsmen,  guided  by  the  tumult  in  the  defile, 
could  sweep  down  upon  the  Apaches — what  an 
opportunity  to  put  an  end  to  their  further  maraud- 
ing! 

Tom's  meditations  were  brought  to  a  sudden  stop 
by  the  sound  of  clattering  hoof  beats  approaching 
at  a  gallop. 

There  followed  in  quick  succession  a  volley  of 
hoarse  shouts — presumably  as  the  camp  fire  came 
in  sight — a  sharp  fusillade,  a  wild  and  general 
stampede  of  the  Apaches'  ponies. 

"  Hurrah,  there  s  Bob  Cope  and  his  party !" 
shouted  Tom  triumphantly,  as  he  turned  in  the 
direction  of  the  tumult,  and  began  forcing  his  way 
through  the  underbrush. 

Two  dark  forms  suddenly  confronted  him;  and 
feeling  assured  that  he  had  fallen  in  with  his 
friends,  Tom  called  out: 

"  Stefano,  is  that  you  and  Nitn  ?" 

Which  was  very  unfortunate  for  him.  For  the 
only  reply  was  a  grunt  and  a  guttural  remark;  and 
before  Tom  knew  what  had  happened,  a  gigantic 
Apache  swooped  down  upon  him  with  a  suddenness 
and  ferocity  before  which  his  own  fierce  resistance 
was  as  nothing. 


108  THAT  TKEASUKE. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

TOM  A  PRISONER. 

IN  another  instant  Tom  was  disarmed,  and  thrown 
to  the  ground.  One  Indian,  kneeling  on  Tom's 
writhing  body,  turned  him  half  over,  and  twisted 
his  hands  behind  him  with  the  dexterity  of  a  Lon- 
don policeman;  then  he  knotted  two  or  three  turns 
of  rawhide  about  his  wrists,  which  were  held  forc- 
ibly back  to  back.  Tom's  first  assailant  placed  his 
knee  on  his  prisoner's  chest,  and,  covering  Tom's 
mouth  with  one  brawny  hand,  held  with  the  other 
the  sharp  point  of  his  scalping  knife  pressed 
against  his  throat. 

"You  keep  um  still,"  he  muttered;  and  Tom,  now 
aware  that  he  was  in  the  clutches  of  Black  Cloud 
himself,  lay  very  still  indeed. 

The  voices  of  the  attacking  party  grew  nearer, 
but  still  the  Apaches  remained  crouched  on  the 
body  of  their  helpless  victim. 

Tom  uttered  a  silent  prayer,  for  he  knew  very 
well  that  his  life  just  then  was  hanging  by  the 
slenderest  possible  thread. 

If  discovered,  his  savage  captors  would  kill  him 
before  making  their  escape,  as  they  easily  could, 
aided  by  the  darkness.  And  a  sound  or  movement 
on  his  own  part  would  bring  about  a  similar  catas- 
trophe. 

"It's  no  use;  the  cusses  has  lit  out  an'  scattered 
ev'ry  way,"  Tom  heard  Cope  call  out,  "an'  we'll 


THAT  TKEA.SUEE.  109 

i 

on'y  batter  our  brains  out  agin'  the  trees  here,  a 
huntin'  around  in  the  dark;  so  let's  git  back  what 
the  camp  fire  is,  an'  see  ef  we  kin  find  out  what's 
become  of  old  Rube's  Injun  wife,  an' the  half  breed 
boy." 

"  All  right,  Cap'n  Bob,"  replied  another;  "but  I'd 
like  derned  well  to  know  whar  that  there  Tom  got 
to  after  he  sent  the  dog  back  to  camp.  Mebbe 
we'll  find  him  stuck  full  uv  arrers,  same  as  ol'  Rube 
wuz." 

"I  wuz  hopin'  the  dog  ud  track  him,  but  instid, 
he  took  us  stret  up  to  the  'Paches'  campin'  place, 
said  a  third,  "  which  is  kinder  curis,  'cause — ' 

And  then  with  the  receding  steps  the  voices  died 
away  in  the  distance,  and  Tom's  last  hope  departed 
with  them. 

Urging  the  captive  to  his  feet  with  no  gentle 
hand,  the  Apaches,  after  exchanging  a  few  rapid 
words,  appropriated  his  rifle,  revolver,  haversack, 
and  cartridge  belt. 

Then,  half  dragging,  half  driving  him,  the  two 
hurried  Tom  into  the  more  open  ground  of  the 
valley  itself,  and  began  a  sort  of  forced  march 
through  the  now  diminishing  darkness.  They  took 
a  northerly  direction,  as  nearly  as  Tom  could  judge 
by  the  waning  stars  They  traveled  this  way  till 
the  glimmer  of  approaching  dawn  began  lighting 
up  the  eastern  sky. 

A  low  whistle  broke  the  morning  silence.  It  was 
answered  by  Black  Cloud's  companion,  and  in  an- 
other moment  three  mounted  Indians,  leading  as 
many  of  the  stampeded  ponies,  emerged  from  a  tim- 
ber line  close  at  hand. 

A  hasty  conference  followed,  and  Tom  was  bidden 
to  mount  one  of  the  ponies,  which  he  did,  with  the 
rough  assistance  of  two  of  his  captors.  The  others 
sprang  into  the  empty  saddles;  and,  with  an  Apache 


110  THAT  TEE  A.SUKE. 

at  either  bridle  rein,  poor  Tom  began  a  ride  the 
memory  of  which  will  abide  till  his  dying  day. 

They  passed  over  a  barren  desert,  so  arid  that 
only  the  prickly  pear  and  solemn  pithaya  can  exist 
among  the  fastnesses  of  the  volcanic  rocks,  which 
lay  in  great  masses,  scattered  irregularly  about  the 
plain. 

Sweltering  with  heat,  tormented  by  thirst,  driven 
half  frantic  by  sand  flies  and  mosquitoes,  galled  by 
the  hard  wooden  saddle  covered  with  green  hide, 
and  a  prey  to  terrible  apprehension  as  to  his  ulti- 
mate fate,  Tom  will  never  forget  that  terrible  ride. 

Through  black  gorges,  between  low  ridges  of 
treeless  hills,  which  seemed  burned  and  baked  to  a 
deep  brick  red  by  the  fierce  rays  of  a  blazing  sun, 
they  journeyed  on;  sometimes  with  walls  of  rock 
like  porphyry  and  jasper  rising  on  either  hand. 

But  toward  nightfall  the  scenery  changed.  Be- 
fore them  lay  the  mouth  of  a  winding  canyon, 
where  ages  ago  some  mighty  river  had  swept  its 
way. 

Its  sides  were  irregular  masses  of  what  was  once 
molten  lava,  rising  tier  on  tier,  where  successive 
streams  of  the  fiery  fluid  had  cooled  after  some 
great  volcanic  action. 

In  the  canyon  itself  was  a  profuse  growth  of 
vegetation  with  abundant  grass  and  cooling  shade; 
while  through  the  middle  wound  a  cooling  stream 
from  a  spring  far  up  the  height. 

Here  was  a  large  encampment  of  Apaches;  and  as 
they  dismounted  among  the  tepees,  Tom  saw,  with 
a  sinking  heart,  that  nearly  all  the  Indians  who 
came  crowding  round  captors  and  captive  were 
decorated  with  war  paint. 

Tom  was  given  into  the  keeping  of  two  stalwart 
Indian  braves.  After  a  meal  of  boiled  deer's  meat, 
he  was  thrust  into  an  empty  tepee.  With  hands  and 


THAT  TREASURE.  Ill 

feet  securely  bound,  he  lay  tossing  unrestfully 
through  the  weary  night  watches;  while  his  guard 
passed  and  repassed  between  a  great  fire  in  front  of 
the  tepee,  aud  the  wide  open  entrance,  where  Tom's 
every  movement  could  be  seen. 

A  thousand  conflicting  thoughts  were  busy  in 
Tom's  excited  brain  as  the  weary  hours  dragged 
slowly  on  toward  the  dawning  of  the  day  which  had 
in  store  for  him — what? 

He  had  heard  enough  of  Apache  atrocities,  even 
in  his  short  experience  on  the  plains,  to  know  that 
mercy  to  a  captured  white  is  as  unusual  at  the 
present  day  as  it  was  fifty  years  ago.  He  knew, 
too,  that  from  earliest  boyhood  the  Apache  de- 
lights in  nothing  so  much  as  to  torture  the  helpless 
bird  or  beast  or  human  being  that  lies  in  his  power. 

As  the  horrible  tales  which  he  had  heard  passed 
through  Tom's  mind,  his  mental  agony  became  even 
greater  than  that  of  the  condemned  man  on  the 
night  before  his  execution. 

The  latter  can  at  least  look  forward  to  a  death 
which,  if  not  painless,  is  quickly  over.  Tom  was  no 
coward;  yet  it  is  only  the  hero  of  very  improbable 
fiction  who  can  fearlessly  look  forward  to  a  linger- 
ing death  by  torture  with  the  mental  resolve  that  he 
will  not  gratify  his  savage  foe  by  look  or  word  ex- 
pressing his  physical  sufferings. 

And  so  the  long  night  wore  away  and  gave  place 
to  dawn.  That  another  morning  would  never  break 
for  him  Tom  felt  assured.  Silently,  but  from  his 
heart,  he  prayed  that  the  sins  of  his  life,  such  as 
they  were,  might  be  forgiven  him;  and,  as  best  he 
knew  how,  he  commended  his  spirit  to  the  God  who 
gave  it. 

The  memory  of  the  sad  beautiful  face  which  he 
had  seen  in  his  dreams,  and  which  he  intuitively 
connected  with  that  of  the  mother  he  could  not  re- 


112  THAT  TKEASUEE. 

call,  came  before  him.  He  thought  of  Professor 
Dean's  tender  and  fatherly  care  throughout  their 
wandering  life,  and  of  the  friendship  which  had 
existed  between  himself  and  Mr.  Sherard  and 
Dolly,  both  of  svhom  believed  him  no  longer  living. 

"Ugh!  white  fellow  cry  like  squaw — he'fraid!" 
said  a  contemptuous  voice,  breaking  in  on  the  agon- 
izing reflections  which  for  the  moment  had  forced 
a  few  natural  tears  from  his  closed  eyes. 

The  speaker  was  Black  Cloud,  who,  in  all  the 
glory  of  fresh  war  paint  and  a  new  blanket,  had 
stepped  inside,  and  was  contemplating  his  captive 
with  grim  satisfaction. 

Tom  made  no  repl}' — simply  because  he  could  not 
call  to  mind  words  that  were  bitter  enough  to  ex- 
press his  detestation  of  the  murderer  of  helpless 
women  and  children  who  stood  before  him. 

"You  cry  worse 'fore  long,"  added  the  Apache, 
with  a  fiendish  grin.  He  called  something  in  his 
native  tongue  to  a  half  dozen  of  painted  braves 
standing  without,  and  two  or  three  of  them  entered 
the  tepee. 

Tom's  ankles  and  wrists  were  loosed.  He  was 
jerked  rudely  to  his  feet,  and  half  led,  half  dragged, 
outside. 

In  a  large  open  space  before  the  encampment  was 
gathered  the  entire  population. 

There  were  squaws  and  young  girls,  boys  and  old 
men,  with  here  and  there  a  tall  "buck,"  strutting 
grandly  about,  proud  in  the  possession  of  a  stove- 
pipe hat  or  a  dilapidated  fatigue  cap,  the  spoils  of 
some  recent  skirmish  with  the  frontier  soldiers. 

Tom  cast  one  despairing  glance  about  him  as  he 
was  led  forward.  There  was  no  trace  of  anything 
like  pity  in  the  hard,  cruel  and  brutal  faces — noth- 
ing but  a  sort  of  fiendish  satisfaction. 

"  God  help  me  to  die  bravely!"  was   his  inward 


THAT   TREASUKE.  113 

prayer;  and,  summoning  all  his  fortitude,  Tom  drew 
himself  up  proudly.  He  compressed  his  lips,  and 
awaited  the  doom  whose  nature  he  could  only  con- 
jecture. 

At  a  sign  from  Black  Cloud,  Tom's  heavy  blue 
shirt  was  pulled  over  his  head  and  tossed  carelessly 
aside,  leaving  him  naked  to  the  waist.  As  he  stood 
shivering  in  the  cool  morning  air,  with  his  muscular 
arms  tightly  folded  across  his  broad  white  chest, 
Tom  even  then  found  himself  wondering  when  he 
should  awake  from  this  horrible  nightmare  ! 

Without  ceremony  Tom  was  flung  to  the  ground 
and  laid  on  his  back.  His  arms  and  legs  were  ex- 
tended in  what  is  known  as  "spread  eagle"  fashion. 
His  wrists  and  ankles  were  securely  fastened,  by 
narrow  thongs  of  rawhide,  to  stout  hickory  pegs 
driven  deep  in  the  soil. 

Tom  supposed  that  he  was  simply  to  be  left  to  die 
of  slow  starvation,  with  all  the  additional  sufferings 
of  body  and  mind  which  such  a  position  would  en- 
gender. 

But  the  fiendish  ingenuity  of  the  Chiricahua 
Apache  has  improved  on  this  comparatively  merci- 
ful form  of  torture. 

A  brave  approached  with  an  armful  of  hard  pine 
splints,  which  he  proceeded  to  arrange  in  a  neat  pile 
on  Tom's  bare  white  chest. 

"  Tell  you  I  make  you  cry,"  coolly  remarked 
Black  Cloud,  as  an  agonized  groan  escaped  the 
lips  of  poor  Tom  when  he  realized  what  was  to 
come. 

Kneeling  beside  his  prostrate  victim,  while  a 
murmur  of  anticipation  ran  through  the  surround- 
ing throng,  Black  Cloud  struck  a  match  on  a  flat 
stone,  and  held  it  a  second  or  two  between  his 
fingers  for  the  flame  to  burn  up  clear  and  bright. 


114  THAT  TEEASUEE. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE   TABLES   AKE    TUENED. 

"  REMEMBER  Ouster — charge !" 

The  ringing  cry,  rising  above  the  rapid  hoof  beats 
of  two  score  cavalrymen,  who  rode  forward  at  full 
gallop,  came  to  Tom  Dean's  ears  like  sweetest  music, 
as  in  agonized  expectancy  he  awaited  the  application 
of  the  burning  match  to  the  heaped  up  splints  on 
his  naked  chest. 

Like  a  whirlwind  sweeping  everything  before  it, 
came  a  rush  of  mounted  men,  with  wild  shouts  and 
cries.  The  cracking  of  revolvers  and  carbines  was 
mingled  with  the  fierce  yells  of  the  surprised 
Apaches,  as  they  rushed  hither  and  thither  for 
their  weapons,  while  on  every  side  women  and  chil- 
dren were  flying  in  confusion  and  dismay. 

But  the  surprise  was  so  sudden  and  unexpected 
that  the  Apaches,  though  outnumbering  the  little 
detachment  two  to  one,  could  make  no  stand  against 
the  fierce  charge. 

A  few  were  shot  down  in  their  tracks,  two  or 
three  fell  before  the  cavalrymen's  sabers;  but  the 
larger  part  of  the  Indians  succeeded  in  reaching 
their  ponies  at  the  rear  of  the  encampment,  and 
galloped  madly  away,  followed  by  a  scattering  fire 
from  some  of  the  cavalrymen. 

Meanwhile  Tom  was  quickly  raised  from  his  un- 
pleasant position  by  Lieutenant  Benham,  the  com- 
mander of  the  detachment. 


THAT  TEEASURE.  115 

"  Bather  lucky  thing  for  you  that  we  came  up  as 
we  did,"  he  said.  Tom,  after  trying  in  broken 
words  to  express  his  thanks,  recovered  and  pulled 
on  his  woolen  shirt,  which,  fortunately,  had  not 
been  appropriated  beforehand.  He  hardly  realized 
that  he  was  indeed  rescued  from  a  terrible  death. 

The  cavalrymen  had  dismounted,  and  were  em- 
ployed in  collecting  such  weapons  as  could  be  found 
in  and  about  the  encampment.  Among  them  Tom 
recognized  and  claimed  his  own  rifle,  revolver  and 
cartridge  belt,  which  were  at  once  restored  to  their 
owner. 

Bows  and  arrows  were  thrown  into  the  blazing 
tepees,  which  had  been  set  on  fire  as  soon  as  the  sol- 
diers were  assured  that  the  women  and  children  had 
all  escaped.  A  few  old  army  muskets  and  carbines 
were  shattered  and  bent  against  the  rocks.  The 
dead — among  whom  Tom  noticed  Black  Cloud 
had  not  been  numbered — were  left  lying  as  they 
fell. 

Then  the  bugle  sounded  a  recall  and  remount. 

"  Haven't  time  to  talk,"  explained  Lieutenant  Ben- 
ham,  flinging  himself  into  his  saddle;  "  want  to  get 
after  those  fiends  before  they  get  far  away.  We 
passed  old  Rube  Lund's  wagon  coming  up  on  the 
trail  just  the  other  side  of  the  bluff — you  had  better 
join  that.  'By.  Close  up — trot !" 

And  before  Tom  could  part  his  lips  to  reply  to 
the  hasty  speech,  the  little  company  went  clattering 
up  the  bed  of  the  canyon ;  leaving  Tom  very  much 
bewildered,  yet  profoundly  thankful  for  his  rescue 
from  the  living  death  to  which  he  had  been  doomed. 

Half  a  dozen  ponies  were  still  picketed  under  the 
willows.  Tom  took  his  pick  of  a  steed,  together 
with  saddle,  bridle,  blankets,  and  a  saddle  wallet, 
stocked  with  jerked  meat  and  pounded  parched 
corn. 


116  THAT  TREASURE. 

Then,  mounting  his  new  acquisition,  Tom  reached 
the  top  of  the  bluff,  which  overlooked  the  plains  for 
miles,  and  to  his  delight  he  saw  the  distant  wagon  a 
couple  of  miles  to  the  southward,  following  the  well 
beaten  trail.  Beside  it  rode  at  least  half  a  dozen 
individuals,  while  close  behind  was  a  black  object 
which  he  felt  sure  was  the  mastiff  Brave. 

"I  wonder  where  the  escort  came  from,"  he  said 
to  himself,  as  his  sure  footed  pony  picked  its  way 
down  the  precipitous  side  of  the  bluff  and  reached 
the  level  below  in  safety. 

The  question  was  answered  by  a  nearer  approach, 
and  by  the  shouts  of  friendly  greeting  which 
reached  Tom's  ear  as  he  was  recognized.  Brave 
rushed  forward  to  meet  him,  and  caracoled  in  cir- 
cles about  Tom's  pony,  barking  in  mad  delight; 
while  Nita  and  Stefano  for  once  laid  aside  their 
stoical  composure,  and  welcomed  him  with  voice  and 
smile.  They  expressed  in  rather  imperfect  English, 
alternated  with  an  occasional  word  of  Spanish,  their 
sense  of  obligation  to  him. 

"It's  all  right,"  laughed  Tom.  "I've  only  paid 
part  of  the  debt  I  owed  you  both  for  taking  such 
good  care  of  me  while  I  was  sick." 

Tom  was  told  by  one  of  the  horsemen — a  miner 
named  Halsted — that  the  four  had  joined  the  wagon 
partly  as  an  escort  and  partly  because  they  them- 
selves were  bound  to  Holcomb  for  more  supplies. 

"  The  dog  came  in  with  yer  handkerchief  all  cor- 
rec',"  explained  Halsted;  "an*  we  mistrusted  some- 
thin'  wrong  to  once.  But  Bob  Cope  an'  some  of  'm 
had  be'n  crookin'  their  elbers  rether  strong,  an'  it 
wuz  nigh  midnight  'fore  we  got  fairly  started.  The 
dog  led  us  tol'rable  correc',  till  we  diskivered  ol' 
Kube's  body.  We  kivered  it  as  best  we  could  in  a 
hurry,  an'  kep'  on;  but  it  wuz  so  thunderin'  dark 
that  betwixt  the  dog  losin'  the  trail  and  all,  we  wuz 


THAT  TKEASURE.  117 

nigh  turnin'  back  an'  waitin'  fur  daylight,  when  we 
ketched  a  glimpse  uv  the  fire.  We  lit  down  on  'm 
lively,  but  the  ponies  stampeded  an'  the  most  uv  {he 
gang  got  off  in  the  brush.  But  the  wagin  and 
mules  wuz  all  right,  an't  it  wuzn't  long  'fore  the 
woman  an'  boy  jined  us  an'  told  about  thet  dodge  of 
your'n  fer  gettin'  'em  free.  They  kno  wed  it  were  you 
by  the  knife.  Sorry  the  woman  missed  of  puttiu' 
thet  derned  Black  Cloud  outer  the  way " 

"Noder  time  come,"  sententiously  interrupted 
Stefano  ;  "not  miss  then." 

"Mebbe  not,"  returned  Halsted,  "but  I  reck'n 
Black  Cloud  11  keep  well  outer  the  way,  now  Loo- 
tenant  Benham  is  after  him  hot  foot.  I  think  you 
said  he  was  'mongst  them  as  got  off." 

Tom  nodded,  and  Halsted  went  on  to  say  that  in 
the  morning  the  party  retui-ned  to  Bonanza  City, 
leaving  the  four  to  accompany  the  wagon  to  Hoi- 
comb.  The  cavalry  detachment,  which  came  from 
Fort  Boker,  had  overtaken  them,  and  had  been  fur- 
nished with  such  information  as  the  little  company 
could  give. 

A  bend  in  the  trail,  which  had  for  some  little 
time  led  between  a  succession  of  sandstone  buttes, 
revealed  an  unbroken  level  extending  several  miles. 
The  lava  ledges  on  the  west  alone  broke  its  mo- 
notony. 

Owing  to  the  rarity  of  the  atmosphere,  any  distant 
object,  seen  against  the  ashy  gray  of  the  soil, 
loomed  strangely.  A  buffalo's  skull  a  mile  away 
seemed  the  size  of  a  flour  barrel.  A  long  legged 
jack  rabbit,  coursing  over  the  ground  with  wonder- 
ful leaps,  appeared  like  an  exaggerated  sheep. 

But  to  none  of  these  things  was  the  attention  of 
the  party  called  by  a  suddenly  exclamation  from 
Halsted.  Unslinging  his  field  glass,  he  looked 
through  it  steadily  at  something  far  ahead. 


118  THAT  TKEASUEE. 

"  What  is  it,  Halsted  ?"  eagerly  asked  Tom,  follow- 
ing the  direction  of  the  other's  gaze.  Two  indis- 
tinct moving  objects  he  himself  could  make  out 
with  the  naked  eye.  One  of  the  men  called  them 
"buffier,"  another  "antelope." 

"  'Tain't  neither,"  replied  the  plainsman,  taking 
down  his  glass  and  dropping  it  into  the  case  by  his 
side;  "it's  an  Injun.  His  Loss  is  dead  lame,  and 
he's  walkin'  or  hobblin' — for  he  ac's  to  me  like  he 
was  wounded — alongside  him." 

"  One  o'  thim  redskins  gittin'  back  acrost  the 
plain  to  the  riservashun,"  angrily  exclaimed  Micky 
F$x,  a  burly  Irishman  whose  wife  and  children  had 
been  butchered  three  years  before  by  a  marauding 
party  from  San  Carlos.  "  Come  on,  boys — after 
him." 

"But  you  wouldn't  kill  a  wounded  Indian,  un- 
armed, perhaps  ?"  protested  Tom,  as  the  men  tin- 
slung  their  rifles  and  laid  them  in  rest  across  their 
saddle  bows,  while  each  urged  his  pony  rapidly  for- 
ward. 

"Look  at  Nita  an' her  boy,  thar';  see  how  they 
feel  to'ards  their  own  race,"  significantly  replied 
Halsted,  lashing  his  horse  to  fuller  speed. 

For  scarcely  had  the  Indian  woman  and  Stefano 
cast  their  eyes  ahead,  when,  as  though  by  consent, 
they  dashed  forward,  leading  the  other  horsemen  by 
a  couple  of  lengths.  On  they  rode  in  the  mad  race; 
but  Nita  and  Stefano  were  better  mounted  than  any 
of  the  others,  excepting  Tom,  whose  pony  was  of 
rare  strength  and  speed,  and  they  kept  well  in  ad- 
vance. 

Suddenly  the  woman,  whose  long  dusky  hair 
streamed  behind  her  in  picturesque  confusion,  gave 
a  wild  and  exultant  cry. 

Snatching  the  rifle  from  Stefano's  hands,  she 
turned  in  the  saddle. 


THAT  TREASURE.  119 

"That  Black  Cloud,"  she  called;  "my  turn  come 
now — no  one  shoot  but  me !" 

"  Nita,  Nita  !"  called  Tom.  He  might  as  well  have 
addressed  the  wind.  The  wounded  Indian,  who 
long  before  had  heard  and  seen  the  approach  of  his 
foes,  had  sheltered  himself  behind  the  body  of  his 
pony,  and  was  sighting  his  heavy  buffalo  gun  across 
the  saddle.  Stefano,  resting  the  barrel  of  his  long 
Colt  revolver  on  the  bend  of  his  left  arm,  took  a 
quick  aim  and  fired  before  the  Indian  woman  could 
throw  the  Winchester  to  her  shoulder. 

The  ball  struck  the  Apache's  pony,  evidently  in  a 
vital  part,  for,  tossing  its  head  in  the  air,  the  horse 
fell  over  on  its  side  so  suddenly  that  Black  Cloud 
but  barely  cleared  himself  from  the  body. 

"  His  gun  is  empty,  or  he'd  'a'  fired  'fore  this,"  ex- 
claimed Halsted,  exultantly.  Nita,  saying  something 
rapidly  to  her  son,  urged  her  own  steed  forward,  its 
bridle  rein  hanging  on  the  pommel  of  the  saddle. 
With  eyes  blazing  with  excitement,  she  held  the 
Winchester  at  her  shoulder,  its  muzzle  pointing  di- 
rectly at  the  heart  of  Black  Cloud.  He  sullenly 
dropped  his  own  weapon  to  the  ground,  and  began 
slowly  stepping  backward  as  the  vengeful  woman 
advanced  on  him. 

"Let  her  alone,  you  derned  young  fool,"  fiercely 
interposed  one  of  the  miners,  seizing  Tom's  bridle 
rein.  With  the  evident  purpose  of  preventing  what 
he  regarded  as  a  cold  blooded  murder,  Tom  was  en- 
deavoring to  press  forward  between  the  two.  "  She's 
on'y  actin*  out  her  Injun  natur' — it's  a  life  for  a  life 
with  them,  an'  you'd  best  stay  quiet!" 

Nita  called  something  to  the  Indian.  Halsted, 
who  understood  part  of  it,  said  she  was  commanding 
him  to  stop  and  hear  what  she  had  to  say.  before  he 
died  like  the  dog  that  he  was. 

Suddenly  Black  Cloud,  uttering  a  yell  of  terror, 


120  THAT  TREASURE. 

threw  his  hands  above  his  head,  and,  as  suddenly  as 
a  man  who  steps  backward  into  a  chasm  in  the  earth, 
he  disappeared  from  sight. 

But  it  was  no  earth  chasm  which  had  swallowed 
up  the  Apache  before  their  horrified  gaze.  Over  a 
mass  of  liquid  paste  is  a  bluish  gray  crust,  which  re- 
forms like  magic  over  the  sunken  mass,  whether 
man  or  beast,  that  breaks  through  its  treacherous 
surface.  Such  is  the  alkali  sink  of  the  plains. 

As  the  Indian  vanished,  the  slimy  mass  seemed  to 
palpitate  for  a  moment  with  a  horrid  sucking  sound, 
like  that  of  water  escaping  through  a  narrow  out- 
let. 

"  I've  heard  tell  o'  them  death  traps,"  said  Hal- 
sted,  who  was  first  to  break  the  silence,  as  he  drew 
his  sleeve  across  his  damp  forehead;  "but  I  never 
dre'mt  they  drawed  anything  down  so  suddin  es  all 
that." 

Tom  said  nothing.  The  strange  scene  had  all 
been  enacted  with  such  bewildering  suddenness 
that  he  could  not  at  first  take  in  its  reality.  He 
glanced  at  Nita,  who  had  taken  her  rifle  from  her 
shoulder;  but  the  only  expression  on  her  face  was 
that  of  genuine  disappointment,  which  also  was  re- 
flected in  the  features  of  Stefano. 

But  their  enemy  was  beyond  the  reach  of  their 
vendetta — literally  as  well  as  figuratively;  for  what- 
ever is  swallowed  up  in  an  alkali  sink  is  drawn  to 
unknown  depths. 

So  Black  Cloud's  unloaded  gun  and  revolvers  (for 
in  the  haste  of  his  flight  the  Apache  had  left  his 
cartridge  belt  behind)  were  claimed  by  Stefano  as 
their  legitimate  spoil,  together  with  the  saddle  and 
equipments  of  the  dead  pony. 

Then,  turning  back  to  the  wagon,  the  line  of  march 
was  again  taken  up.  Four  days  of  heat  and  dust, 
of  thirst  and  general  discomfort;  four  nights  of  un- 


THAT  TREASURE.  121 

restful  repose  broken  by  a  continuous  fear  of  sud- 
den attack;  and  as  the  sun  was  beginning  to  decline 
toward  the  Pacific  slopes,  the  lumbering  wagon 
rolled  slowly  into  the  main  street  of  what  was  then 
o»e  of  the  largest  towns  on  the  newly  completed  line 
of  the  A.  and  P.  B.  B. 


122  THAT  TEEASUKE. 


CHAPTEE  XVL 

WHAT    TOM    FOUND   AT   HOLCOMB. 

THERE  is  both  sameness  and  individuality  in  the 
average  mining  town  of  any  size  that  is  connected 
by  rail  with  the  great  far  away  centers  of  civiliza- 
tion. Holcomb  was  no  exception  to  the  general 
rule. 

The  town  proper  consisted  of  one  long,  wide 
street  of  straggling  buildings,  curiously  contrasted 
as  to  architectural  pretensions.  Midway  of  the 
street  stood  a  good  sized  block,  built  of  the  better 
quality  of  adobe  or  sun  dried  brick.  In  this  was  lo- 
cated the  bank,  two  dry  goods  stores,  the  post  office, 
and  the  headquarters  of  the  local  magistrate,  who 
was  also  notary  public,  lawyer,  justice  of  the  peace, 
real  estate  agent,  and  city  undertaker  The  rest  of 
the  town  was  made  up  of  flat  roofed,  square  fronted 
wooden  buildings,  of  different  styles  and  shapes, 
facing  the  street.  They  were  used  as  dwelling 
houses,  miners'  boarding  houses,  cheap  eating 
booths,  gambling  dens,  and  saloons;  of  which  latter 
the  proportion  was  one  saloon  to  every  ten  inhabit- 
ants. 

A  gun  store,  two  blacksmiths'  shanties,  a  second 
hand  clothing  store,  and  a  jail,  with  some  scattered 
mud  ranches  in  the  suburbs,  completed  the  picture. 
Not  a  tree  or  shrub  was  to  be  seen  along  the  border  of 
the  street,  which  at  night  was  lighted  by  smoking 


THAT  TKEASUEE.  123 

kerosene  lamps.  These  were  generally  without  the 
usual  glass  mclosures  owing  to  continuous  pistol 
practice  on  the  part  of  the  cowboys  or  hilarious 
miners. 

True  to  their  Indian  nature,  Nita  and  Stefano  had 
preferred  to  camp  by  the  turbid  stream  at  the  out- 
skirts of  the  town.  Promising  to  see  them  on  the 
morrow,  Tom  parted  from  Halsted  and  his  compan- 
ions, who  had  naturally  gravitated  to  the  nearest 
saloon.  With  Brave  following  close  at  his  pony's 
heels,  he  rode  slowly  through  the  street  toward  the 
only  "hotel,"  to  which  Halsted  had  directed  him; 
the  enormous  size  of  the  mastiff  calling  forth  various 
audible  expressions  of  astonishment  from  the  street 
corner  groups. 

The  "  Vendome  "  was  hardly  as  imposing  a  struct- 
ure as  its  name  would  imply.  It  was  an  unpainted 
two  story  affair,  standing  nearly  opposite  the 
adobe  railway  station,  at  the  head  of  the  long  street. 

A  group  of  more  than  ordinarily  rough  looking 
men  occupied  the  piazza  as  Tom  dismounted.  They 
were  smoking  vigorously,  swearing  profusely,  or 
laughing  loudly,  and  all  were  "heeled"  in  the 
most  approved  style  of  the  "Western  desperado. 

The  leader  of  the  party,  or  more  properly,  gang, 
was  a  man  of  herculean  proportions,  whose  unkempt 
red  hair  and  beard  had  been  coaxed  into  little 
corkscrew  curls  at  the  end.  Had  he  been  dressed 
with  scrupulous  nicety,  he  would  not  nave  been  of 
attractive  presence.  In  slouch  hat,  fiery  red  shirt, 
and  jean  riding  overalls  tucked  into  long  boots,  with 
revolver  and  knife,  he  looked  what  he  was — a 
thoroughbred  ruffian. 

This  gentleman,  after  winking  at  his  companions, 
stepped  down  from  the  piazza,  as  Tom  was  turning 
the  pony  over  to  a  half  breed  helper,  who  had  first 
come  round  from  the  board  stable  in  the  rear.  The 


124  THAT  TKEASURE. 

big  man  closely  scrutinized  a  half  effaced  brand  on 
the  pony's  haunch. 

"  That  your  brand,  Curly  ?"  called  a  short,  thick 
set  individual,  who  was  resting  his  chin  upon  a  pair 
of  hairy  hands  clasped  over  the  muzzle  of  a  repeat- 
ing rifle. 

"  Course  it  is,"  was  the  prompt  reply,  accompan- 
ied by  a  hoarse  chuckle,  in  which  the  others  joined, 
"  an'  come  to  look  closter,  that's  my  saddle  an'  gear- 
in',  jest  as  hoss  an'  all  was  run  off  my  ranch  las' 
night.  Guess  I'll  take  charge  of  the  fitout,  an'  this 
young  tenderfoot  here  is  lucky  if  he  gets  off  without 
bein'  swung  up  for  hoss  stealin'." 

Tom,  who  had  stood  perfectly  quiet  during  the 
bully's  harangue,  though  his  blood  was  tingling  to 
his  finger  tips,  turned  his  head  as  the  man  put  a 
huge  hand  on  the  pommel  of  the  saddle,  and  was 
preparing  to  mount. 

"  Brave,"  he  said,  and  the  huge  mastiff,  erecting 
the  short  hair  on  his  neck  and  shoulders,  sprang  to 
Tom's  side;  and,  steadfastly  regarding  the  man 
called  Curley,  gave  vent  to  a  deep  and  ominous 
growl. 

"Leave  my.  pony  alone,"  exclaimed  Tom,  hotly, 
«  or " 

A  contemptuous  laugh  cut  short  the  threat.  "  Go 
it,  Curley,"  chorused  the  delighted  group  on  the 
piazza.  The  bully,  putting  the  toe  of  his  heavy 
boot  in  the  rawhide  loop  which  served  as  a  stirrup, 
swung  himself  into  the  saddle. 

But  scarcely  had  he  done  so,  when  Brave,  wrench- 
ing his  collar  from  Tom's  grasp,  made  an  upward 
leap  like  that  of  a  cougar.  Just  missing  the  ruffi- 
an's brawny  throat,  he  seized  him  by  the  shoulder, 
and  dragged  him  heavily  to  the  ground  in  less  time 
than  I  have  taken  to  write  it. 

"  Shoot  the  dog — and  the  feller  that  owns  him  !" 


THAT  TEEASUKE.  125 

yelled  Curley  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  as  Brave 
planted  his  huge  fore  paws  on  the  chest  of  the  pros- 
trate man,  who  dared  not  stir  hand  or  foot.  The 
dog  displayed  a  set  of  white  even  fangs,  without  for 
a  moment  taking  his  glowing  eyes  from  the  terrified 
ones  of  his  victim. 

But  Tom  Dean,  though  a  stranger  in  a  strange 
land,  was  not  so  easily  cowed.  With  the  very  natu- 
ral feeling  that  attempted  intimidation  must  in  this 
case  at  least  be  met  with  similar  action,  he  unslung 
his  rifle.  Stepping  quickly  in  front  of  the  dog  and 
his  prostrate  victim,  he  threw  the  Winchester  to  his 
shoulder. 

How  the  affair  might  have  ended,  but  for  an  un- 
expected interruption,  is  uncertain. 

But  just  then  the  hotel  door  was  swung  violently 
open,  and  a  sinewy  six  footer,  with  a  blonde  beard 
and  sleepy  blue  eyes,  stepped  rapidly  out. 

"Ah!"  he  exclaimed,  taking  in  the  situation  at  a 
glance,  "  Colonel  North  " — calling  over  his  shoulder 
"  just  bring  some  of  the  boys  out,  will  you  ?" 

"Certainly,  major,"  was  the  prompt  reply.  Fol- 
lowed by  a  dozen  or  more  sunburned  men,  who  to 
Tom's  inexperienced  eyes  looked  fully  as  forbidding 
as  the  group  he  was  confronting,  a  new  actor  ap- 
peared on  the  scene. 

He  was  a  compactly  built  person  of  medium 
height,  dressed  with  more  care  than  his  fellows. 
His  eyes  were  gray  and  very  piercing;  his  smooth 
shaven  face  wore  a  singularly  determined  look,  and 
in  the  hollow  of  his  left  arm  Colonel  North — for  it 
was  he — carried  a  handsomely  mounted  double 
gun. 

"  Oh !"  ejaculated  the  colonel,  very  much  as  the 
major  had  said  "  ah !" 

And  without  any  ceremony  he  pushed  the  major 
on  one  side. 


126  THAT  TREASURE. 

44  In  behalf  of  my  friends  here,  who  are  peaceable 
and  law  abiding  citizens,"  remarked  the  colonel, 
smoothly  addressing  himself  to  Tom,  who  lowered 
his  rifle  at  once,  "  may  I  inquire  what  the  particular 
disturbance  is  now  ?" 

His  manner  was  so  studied  and  elaborately  polite 
that  Tom  hardly  knew  whether  the  speaker  was  pok- 
ing fun  at  him  or  not.  But  he  told  his  story  briefly 
and  to  the  point. 

A  murmur  of  approval  at  the  stand  he  had  taken 
rose  from  the  colonel's  party,  and  a  corresponding 
growl  of  disapproval  from  the  others. 

"  One  moment,  gentlemen,"  politely  observed  the 
colonel,  with  a  wave  of  his  hand  toward  the  ruffianly 
gang,  who  evidently  held  the  smooth  shaven  colonel 
in  some  fear;  "young  man,  you  may  call  off  your 
dog." 

Greatly  astonished  at  the  speaker's  suavity  of 
speech,  Tom  obeyed.  The  discomfited  Curley  arose, 
breathing  threatenings  and  slaughter. 

"  No,  Curley,"  mildly  expostulated  Colonel  North, 
as  he  observed  a  motion  of  the  ruffian's  hand  in  the 
direction  of  his  pistol,  and  instantly  covered  him 
with  his  gun.  "  No,  that  won't  do  !" 

He  spoke  in  a  quick,  sharp,  incisive  tone,  which 
was  in  singular  contrast  to  the  easiness  of  his  former 
manner. 

Curley's  hand  recovered  its  normal  position,  and 
he  glared  ferociously  at  the  speaker.  Taking  down 
his  weapon,  the  colonel  was  about  to  say  something 
more,  when  Major  Smith,  who  had  been  nervously 
fingering  the  handles  of  two  large  revolvers,  one  at 
either  hip,  stepped  in  front  of  him  in  his  turn. 

"  I  want  to  be  heard  in  this  matter,"  he  said,  with 
an  air  of  decision;  "  and  the  thing  stands  here.  1 
ain't  a  citizen  of  Holcomb,  no  more  is  my  friend  the 
colonel;  but  we're  both  on  the  side  of  law  and  order. 


THAT  "TREASURE.  127 

Pete  Curley,  you  and  your  dirty  crowd  have  hung 
round  this  respectable  hotel  long  enough,  and  this 
bulldozing  strangers  is  played  out.  Git,  the  whole 
passel  of  you,  unless  you  want  to  try  titles  with 
shootin'  irons;  and  the  sooner  you  leave  town  the 
better.  You  hear  me." 

This  brief  but  eloquent  address  was  emphasized, 
on  the  part  of  both  the  speaker  and  his  backers,  by 
such  suggestive  movements  with  reference  to  weap- 
ons, offensive  and  defensive,  that  the  entire  gang 
filed  sullenly  down  the  steps,  in  obedience  to  an  im- 
perative gesture  from  Curley,  and  entered  the  near- 
est saloon. 

Tom's  pony  was  led  away;  and,  encouraged  by 
the  friendly  attitude  of  those  around  him,  he  ex- 
plained, as  briefly  as  possible,  his  errand  in  Hoi- 
comb. 

"  Like  enough  the  boss  inside  can  tell  you  some- 
thin'  about  the  party  you're  lookin'  for,"  suggested 
a  kindly  Holcombite,  as  Colonel  North  and  his  chum 
re-entered  the  Vendome,  with  an  invitation  to  the 
others  to  follow.  Acting  on  the  hint,  Tom,  after 
taking  Brave  round  to  the  rude  stable  in  the  rear, 
stepped  into  the  long  unplastered  and  unpainted 
room,  which  served  as  a  combined  office,  dining  hall 
and  barroom. 

Behind  a  desk,  near  the  door,  stood  a  thickset 
man,  adding  up  a  column  of  figures  in  a  greasy  ac- 
count book,  who  looked  up  as  Tom  approached,  and 
disclosed  the  coarse  and  unshaven  face  of  Britzer, 
from  whom  he  had  parted  months  before,  under  such 
unpleasant  circumstances. 

"  Tom  Deaii,  by  thunder  1"  exclaimed  Britzer,  as  a 
sort  of  sickly  pallor  overspread  his  face. 

"  Yes,  it's  Tom  Dean,"  was  the  cold  reply,  after 
Tom  had  recovered  from  his  own  surprise.  Mr. 
Britzer  himself  speedily  regained  his  wonted  self 


198  THAT  TREASURE. 

assurance,  while  Tom  stood  hesitating  and  unde- 
cided Quite  volubly  he  expressed  his  pleasure  at 
seeing  Tom  so  stout  and  brown.  And  as  Tom 
made  no  reply,  Britzer,  rubbing  his  hands  together 
after  his  former  fashion,  went  on  to  explain  his  un- 
expected presence. 

Well,  accidents  would  happen,  and  he  had  slipped 
tip  on  his  business  venture  in  Mexico.  In  fact,  the 
sheriff  had  sold  him  out.  He  had  tried  his  hand  at 
one  thing  after  another  (Mr.  Britzer  did  not  go  into 
details),  and  finally  drifted  into  Holcomb  with  a 
trading  wagon.  Mr.  Diggs,  the  proprietor  of  the 
Vendome,  was  better  at  mixing  drinks  than  keeping 
his  hotel  accounts,  and  for  the  time  being  Mr.  Brit- 
zer was  acting  as  a  sort  of  clerk  and  general  fac- 
totum. 

"  Do  you  remember  a  Mr.  Sherard  and  his  daugh- 
ter coming  here  some  weeks  since  ?"  asked  Tom,  as 
Britzer  finished. 

Yes,  indeed,  Britzer  remembered  them  well;  nice 
looking  girl  was  Miss  Dolly.  Where  on  earth  did 
Tom  fall  in  with  them,  he  wanted  to  know,  in  evi- 
dent astonishment. 

"  Mr.  Sherard  and  I  were  in  a  mining  venture  to- 
gether," was  Tom's  short  reply. 

"You  don't  mean  it?"  returned  Britzer,  with  a 
long,  low  whistle.  "  Then  he  had  a  partner,  af tei 
all,  and  if  it  was  share  and  share  alike,  you,  Master 
Tom  Dean,  must  have  made  a  mighty  good  thing  of 
it,"  he  went  on,  with  a  quick,  penetrating  glance  at 
Tom's  immovable  face;  "for  they  say  down  town 
that,  before  he  left  Holcomb,  Sherard  sold  eighteen 
thousand  dollars'  worth  of  pocket  gold  to  Jacobs, 
the  Jew  broker,  under  the  bank." 

Tom  made  no  immediate  reply,  for  his  mind  was 
intent  upon  something  else. 

"Do  you  know  where  Mr.   Sherard    and    Miss 


THAT  TREASURE.  129 

Dolores  went  from  here  ?"  he  asked,  too  eager  for 
the  required  information  to  notice  the  evil  glitter  in 
the  eye  of  the  man  before  him. 

But  all  Britzer  or  any  one  in  Holcomb  knew 
about  it,  so  he  said,  was  that  Mr.  Sherard  kept  his 
own  counsel  as  to  his  destination.  The  ticket  agent,  - 
who  boarded  at  the  Vendome,  said  that  Sherard 
bought  two  tickets  for  Denver,  but  whether  he 
went  east  or  west  from  there  it  was  impossible  to 
tell. 

"  I  suppose,"  said  Britzer,  eying  Tom  furtively 
from  under  his  shaggy  eyebrows,  as  the  young  fel- 
low, with  a  disappointed  face,  remained  silent  for  a 
moment  or  two,  "  I  suppose  of  course  you  don't 
know  anything — that  is — you've  never  tried  to  get 
any  clew  to  the — the  person  who — " 

"  Murdered  Professor  Dean,"  supplied  Tom,  as 
Britzer  stammered  and  hesitated  without  finishing 
the  sentence.  "  Yes,  murdered  him,"  he  repeated, 
as  Britzer  started,  "  for  it  was  the  shock  the  robber 
gave  the  professor  that  caused  his  death.  No," 
Tom  went  on,  looking  Britzer  full  in  the  face,  "  I've 
never  tried  to  get  any  clew  for  the  reason  that  I'm 
pretty  sure  who  the  party  is,  though  unluckily  I 
can't  prove  it.  But  it  can't  be  much  satisfaction  for 
him  to  know  that  the  money  he  failed  to  secure  was 
in  the  room  all  the  time,  and  within  his  reach  if 
he'd  only  known  where  to  look,  and  that  I  myself 
found  it  afterwards  between  the  leaves  of  an  old 
pocket  diary  in  the  closet,  safe  and  sound,"  added 
Tom,  forgetting  his  usual  discretion  in  his  desire 
of  seeing  what  effect  this  disclosure  would  have 
upon  the  man  whom  he  believed  to  be  actually 
guilty  of  the  attempted  robbery  and  morally  guilty 
of  Professor  Dean's  death. 

But  if  his  suspicions  were  correct,  Britzer  had  *"• 
"*ery  good  command  oyer  his  countenance. 


130  THAT  TEEASUEE. 

"  Well,  I'm  glad  of  it,  Tom,"  he  said,  with  affected 
heartiness;  "  and  though  we  had  some  words  the 
night  you  left  the  building,  I — I — hope  you  don't 
bear  any  grudge  against  me.  Why,  Tom,"  ex- 
claimed Mr.  Britzer,  as,  much  to  the  young  fellow's 
disgust,  he  slapped  him  on  the  shoulder,  "  what 
with  the  professor's  little  fortune  and  the  pile  I  ex- 
pect you  made  with  Sherard,  you'll  go  back  East  a 
rich  man.  I  suppose,  of  course,  you  don't  intend 
staying  any  longer  than  you  can  help  in  this  for- 
saken country." 

"  I  leave  tomorrow  on  the  noon  train,"  replied 
Tom,  briefly;  and,  finding  out  that  he  could  obtain 
a  hot  bath  further  down  the  street,  where  an  enter- 
prising Chinese  barber  had  established  a  board 
shanty  directly  over  a  boiling  sulphur  spring,  Tom 
went  out,  leaving  his  rifle  in  Britzer's  care  till  he 
returned. 

Why,  the  moment  that  the  door  closed  behind 
Tom  Dean,  Britzer  should  have  beckoned  the  stal- 
wart major  and  the  polite  colonel  to  the  desk,  where 
the  trio  exchanged  several  remarks  in  an  undertone, 
is  best  known  to  himself. 

Colonel  North  and  Major  Smith  had  arrived  at 
Holcomb  at  nearly  the  same  time  as  Britzer.  They 
represented  themselves  as  ex  army  officers  in  search 
of  mining  investments;  and,  being  free  and  easy 
gentlemen  with  plenty  of  money,  they  had  speedily 
ingratiated  themselves  with  the  guests  of  the  Yen- 
dome,  who,  it  need  hardly  be  said,  were  all  of  the 
masculine  flannel  shirted  order,  ready  to  fight  or 
drink  at  the  shortest  possible  notice. 

Whether  Britzer  had  met  the  pair  before  or  not, 
singularly  enough  a  certain  intimacy  seemed  to  ex- 
ist between  the  three,  which  Major  Smith  carelessly 
explained  by  saying  that  Britzer  was  poor  and  down 
on  his  luck,  but  the  time  had  been  when  that  man 


THAT  TEEASUKE.  131 

was  worth  a  cool  hundred  thousand.  He,  the  major, 
remembered  having  seen  him  more  than  once  at  the 
Stock  Exchange  in  New  York. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  when  Tom,  refreshed  by  his 
bath,  returned  to  the  Vendome  in  time  for  a  coarse 
but  substantial  meal,  he  became  the  recipient  of 
more  attention  than  was  quite  agreeable  from  the 
trio.  To  avoid  the  numerous  invitations  to  drink, 
as  well  as  a  cunning  course  of  cross  questioning 
from  the  affable  colonel,  he  stepped  out  on  the 
piazza. 

There,  seating  himself  on  a  hide  bottomed  stool, 
he  began  to  mentally  review  the  situation.  He  took 
the  diary  from  the  pocket  stitched  inside  his  woolen 
shirt,  and  opened  it  on  his  knee. 

"Four  one  thousand  dollar  notes,  and  enough 
smaller  ones  to  go  a  long  way  towards  helping  me 
to  get  settled  somewhere,"  he  muttered  as  he 
smoothed  out  the  bills  and  arranged  them  carefully 
between  the  discolored  leaves. 

As  Tom  was  about  closing  the  diary,  something 
pinned  to  a  leaf  in  the  first  part  attracted  his  atten- 
tion. It  was  a  paragraph  cut  from  a  newspaper 
whose  date  was  presumably  that  under  which  it 
was  pinned- — or  at  least  so  Tom  was  inclined  to 
think. 

"  Will  the  gentleman  who  advertised  in  certain 
New  York  papers  in  1865  for  the  parents  or  legal 
protectors  of  a  male  child  aged  about  three  years 
and  calling  himself  "  Tommy  " — said  child  having 
been  found  deserted  on  Pier  28,  North  River,  after 
departure  of  the  Fall  Eiver  boat,  communicate  at 
once  with  GK  S.  Greyson,  1927  Montgomery  Street, 
San  Francisco,  Boom  3,  second  floor." 

Now,  the  date  above  the  paragraph  corresponded 
to  that  of  their  arrival  in  the  City  of  Mexico,  some 
five  months  previous;  at  which  time,  as  Tom  re- 


132  THAT  TREASURE. 

membered,  the  professor  had  received  from  some 
Eastern  friend  a  package  of  New  York  papers  by 
mail,  from  one  of  which  this  scrap  had  probably 
been  scissored  by  the  professor,  and  pinned  in  the 
diary. 

Why  the  professor  had  never  spoken  to  him  of 
this  paragraph,  which  might  mean  so  much  to  him, 
Tom  could  not  understand.  Nor  did  a  further 
perusal  of  various  blotted  memoranda  give  him  any 
idea  whether  Professor  Dean  had  communicated 
with  the  address  given, 

But  the  discovery  settled  one  vexed  question  in 
his  mind.  He  had  now  a  definite  destination.  The 
uncertainty  of  tracing  Mr.  Sherard's  movements 
had  given  place  to  a  certainty  of  at  least  learning 
something  concerning  himself  which  must  be  im- 
portant for  him  to  know.  That  point  once  estab- 
lished he  could  follow  up  his  friends  later  on. 

The  shrill  whistle  of  an  East  bound  train  cut 
short  Tom's  musings.  Returning  the  diary  to  his 
pocket,  he  made  room  on  the  bench  for  the  colonel, 
who,  with  other  guests  of  the  Vendome,  came 
crowding  out  of  the  door  to  stare  at  the  few  pas- 
sengers left  on  the  platform  by  the  departing  train. 

"I  say,"  suddenly  exclaimed  Halsted,  who  had 
joined  the  group  on  the  piazza,  and  pointed  across 
the  railway  track,  "  ain't  that  what  citv  folks  call  a 
'dude?'" 

The  person  referred  to  was  a  rather  fashionably 
dressed  young  fellow,  who  appeared  to  be  about 
Tom's  age.  The  Holcombites,  whether  miners  or 
engaged  in  other  pursuits,  eschewed  white  shirts; 
though  on  dress  occasions  a  fine  French  fiannel  was 
donned.  Vests  were  regarded  as  purely  ornamental 
excepting  in  cold  weather.  A  coat  was  allowable, 
but  not  commonly  worn,  especially  in  the  warmer 
seasons. 


THAT  TKEASUKE.  132 

Yet  the  new  comer  not  only  wore  a  well  cut  suit 
of  gray  tweed,  but  his  boots  were  polished,  his 
linen  immaculate,  and  in  one  kid  gloved  hand  he 
carried  a  handsome  traveling  bag,  to  which  was 
strapped  a  neatly  folded  summer  overcoat,  and  a 
dainty  silk  umbrella.  And  when  I  add  that,  instead 
of  the  slouch  hat  or  sombrero  familiar  to  Holcomb 
eyes,  the  young  stranger  wore  a  high  crowned 
white  derby  encircled  by  a  "  weed,"  it  is  almost 
needless  to  remark  that  he  at  once  became  the 
cynosure  of  the  public  gaze  ! 

"He  must  be  a  newly  landed  Englishman,"  re- 
marked Colonel  North,  emphatically;  "no  dude  of 
American  birth  would  dare  wear  such  a  headpiece 
in  this  section  of  the  country." 

"  Shoot  the  hat !"  shouted  a  miner,  of  a  humor- 
ous turn,  who  had  just  returned  from  St.  Jo, 
where  the  slang  expression  quoted  was  then  in  vogue. 

Mr.  Curley,  who  had  just  come  out  of  the  corner 
saloon  close  by,  took  the  suggestion  in  its  most 
literal  sense.  As  the  young  fellow  was  ascending 
the  wooden  steps  to  the  piazza,  he  drew  his  heavy 
revolver  and  fired  twice  in  rapid  succession,  seem- 
ing scarcely  to  glance  along  the  barrel. 

The  high  crowned  hat  was  lifted  from  the  wear- 
er's head  and  pitched  backward  to  the  ground, 
pierced  with  two  bullet  holes,  while  a  delighted 
shout  attested  to  the  general  appreciation  of  this 
pleasing  little  practical  joke. 

But,  instead  of  betraying  any  particular  terror, 
or  even  excitement,  the  young  fellow  set  down  his 
satchel  and  glanced  across  at  the  corner  where 
Curley  was  returning  his  revolver  to  its  sheath. 

"Watched  with  breathless  interest  by  the  onlook- 
ers, the  new  comer  stepped  quickly  across  the  street 
and  confronted  the  bully,  who  stared  at  him  in  con- 
temptuous amazement. 


134  THAT  TKEASUKE- 

"I  think  it  was  you  who  spoiled  my  hat,"  he 
quietly  remarked  to  Curley;  and  before  the  latter 
could  reply,  the  speaker  caught  his  burly  opponent 
directly  under  the  chin  with  a  well  directed  blow, 
which  sent  him  staggering  backward  against  the 
side  of  the  saloon. 

"  Good  boy  !"  shouted  Colonel  North.  The  young 
man  then  energetically  stripped  off  his  coat,  and 
shaped  himself  in  scientific  fashion  to  meet  the  ex- 
pected onrush  of  the  bully,  who,  with  a  fearful  im- 
precation, had  straightened  himself  for  vengeance. 
Meanwhile,  the  colonel,  catching  for  the  first  time  a 
distinct  view  of  the  stranger's  features,  gave  a  sort 
of  half  groan. 

"  Good  Lord !"  he  muttered  between  his  closely 
shut  teeth,  "  it's  Tom  himself,  and  the  fat  is  in  the 
fire.  But  he  must  have  got  the  money,  else  he 
wouldn't  have  dared  to  follow  me  here." 

Without  finishing  his  half  audible  remark,  Col- 
onel North  quickly  reached  his  gun  from  behind  the 
door. 

"  Stop  that — drop  your  hands,  Curley  !"  he  shout- 
ed. With  a  vivid  remembrance  of  the  previous 
warning,  and  the  probable  results  of  neglecting  to 
heed  it,  Curley  reluctantly  gave  up  his  loudly  ex- 
pressed purpose  of  "  paralyzing  "  his  youthful  an- 
tagonist. The  latter  seemed  disappointed  at  the 
interruption,  and  stepped  back  slowly. 

But  Colonel  North's  face  resumed  its  wonted  easy 
demeanor,  as  the  young  fellow,  having  resumed  his 
coat  and  picked  up  his  satchel,  walked  toward  the 
piazza  of  the  hotel. 

"Street  brawls  are  contrary  to  the  peace  and 
harmony  of  this  community,"  remarked  the  colonel, 
gravely,  to  the  youthful  stranger,  who  looked  up  at 
him  with  apparent  surprise:  "and  so,  Mr. — " 

"Saxton —  Tom     Saxton,     of     San     Francisco/' 


THAT  TKEASUKE.  135 

promptly  answered  the  new  comer,  as  the  colonel 
seemed  to  hesitate. 

"Ah,  thank  you,  Mr.  Saxton,"  continued  Colonel 
North;  "  so,  as  a  matter  of  strict  duty,  it  was  neces- 
sary to  interfere  in  this  little  affair,  though,  from 
a — a — scientific  point  of  view,  I  should  have  liked 
to  have  seen  the  finish.  Glad  to  know  you,  Mr. 
Saxton,"  he  added  airily;  "  I'm  acquainted  in  San 
Francisco  myself,  and  hope  to  have  a  talk  with  you 
soon." 

Mr.  Tom  Saxton  responded  politely,  and  the 
colonel  entered  the  door,  at  the  head  of  a  crowd  of 
thirsty  admirers.  With  a  glance  at  the  white  hat, 
which  was  trodden  out  of  shape  by  the  dispersing 
crowd,  young  Saxton  pulled  forward  a  stool  upon 
the  piazza.  Then  he  placed  his  traveling  bag  be- 
tween his  feet  and  opened  it,  while  Tom  sat  watch- 
ing him  with  eager  interest,  hoping  that  he  would 
say  something  to  him. 

Tom  was  not  disappointed. 

"I  wonder  if  the  fastidious  Holcombites  will  find 
fault  with  this,"  said  Tom  Saxton,  pulling  a  soft, 
black  hat,  of  the  description  known  as  a  "  slouch," 
from  his  satchel,  and  placing  it  on  his  head.  He 
addressed  himself  to  Tom,  and  at  the  same  time 
glanced  half  quizzically  at  the  wide  brimmed  som- 
brero worn  by  the  latter. 

"You  look  the  thorough  plainsman,"  he  said  to 
Tom,  "  and  I  would  like  to  trade  outfits  with  you. 
Are  you  open  to  an  offer  for  your  wardrobe  ?" 

Now  it  struck  Tom  that  as  he  intended  to  go  as 
quickly  as  possible  to  San  Francisco,  he  had  no  fur- 
ther need  for  his  frontier  equipments;  and  this 
might  be  a  good  opportunity  for  disposing  of  them. 

"But  are  you  ?oing  to  give  up  the  garb  of  civili- 
zation?" he  said  to  the  stranger.  "Don't  you  come 
from  some  Eastern  city  ?" 


136  THAT  TREASURE. 

"No,"  replied  Saxton,  "I  am  from  San  Fran- 
cisco." 

"And  don't  you  intend  to  return  home?"  con- 
tinued Tom. 

"  I  have  no  home,  and  I  doubt  if  I  shall  ever  go 
back  to  San  Francisco,"  answered  Saxton,  in  a  man- 
ner which  seemed  to  forbid  further  questioning. 
Then  the  two  began  discussing  the  "  outfit." 

The  upshot  of  the  matter  was  that  after  inspecting 
Tom's  pony  and  equipments,  together  with  his 
weapons  and  accouterments,  Saxton  agreed  to  pur- 
chase them  on  the  following  day,  leaving  their  valu- 
ation to  some  third  party — perhaps  the  major  or  his 
friend  Colonel  North. 

"You'd  better  throw  in  the  dog,"  suggested  young 
Saxton,  who  was  much  taken  with  the  appearance  of 
the  noble  mastiff.  Brave  lay  on  the  ground  near 
the  stable,  watching  the  pony,  as  he  filled  himself 
with  the  nutritious  alfalfa,  of  which  horses  are  so 
fond. 

But  Tom  shook  his  head  decisively.  Although 
he  knew  it  would  be  impossible  to  take  Brave  with 
him,  he  could  not  bear  to  give  the  dog  into  a 
stranger's  hands. 

"  Some  friends  of  mine  are  to  liave  Brave,"  he 
said,  and  whistling  the  mastiff  to  him  Tom  left  Sax- 
ton  to  enter  the  house  to  arrange  for  his  lodgings, 
while  the  former  made  his  way  to  the  outskirts  of 
the  town,  where  the  trading  wagon  had  been  halted 
and  the  Indian  tepee  was  pitched. 

The  eyes  of  both  Nita  and  Stefano  sparkled  as 
Tom  told  them  the  purpose  of  his  errand.  He  de- 
sired to  leave  Brave  with  them. 

"  We  always  keep  him  and  be  good  to  him,"  said 
Nita,  patting  the  dog's  huge  head.  During  the  jour- 
ney across  the  plains  both  the  Indian  woman  and 
Stefano  had  become  greatly  attached  to  the  mastiff, 


THAT  TKEASUKE.  137 

who  seemed  to  have  taken  a  strong  liking  to  them  in 
return. 

As  Tom  caressed  the  dog  for  the  last  time,  and 
said  his  final  farewells  to  Stefano  and  Nita,  the  hab- 
itual stoicism  of  the  Indian  woman  and  her  son  gave 
place  to  something  like  real  emotion. 

"  Good  by,  Tom,"  said  Nita,  taking  his  hand  in  her 
own  brown  one.  "  Nita  poor  Indian  v«oman,  but  al- 
ways pray  Great  Spirit  take  care  of  young  white 
brave;"  and  there  was  something  like  tears  in  her 
dark  eyes  as  she  thus  spoke. 

"  Adios,"  was  Stefano's  farewell;  but  the  tremor  of 
his  voice  showed  that  he,  too,  was  sorry  to  part 
from  the  manly  young  fellow  who  had  been  so 
strangely  associated  for  a  time  with  the  two  of  a 
despised  race. 

"  Call  Brave,"  said  Tom,  in  a  low  tone.  With 
drooping  head  and  tail,  the  great  dog  gave  his 
former  master  an  almost  pathetic  look  and  obeyed 
the  summons  of  his  new  owners.  Throwing  open 
the  flap  at  the  entrance  of  the  Indian  teptee,  the 
three  passed  in  out  of  sight — out  of  Tom's  life  and 
out  of  my  story  forever. 


138  THAT  TREASURE. 


CHAPTEB  XVK 

THOMAS    SAXTON,    ESQUIEE. 

FEOM  early  morning  till  nightfall,  excepting  for 
the  few  idlers  and  loafers  who  saunter  through  the 
street  or  congregate  on  the  corners,  Holcomb's 
main  thoroughfare  is  comparatively  deserted. 

Occasionally  half  a  dozen  mounted  Indians,  a 
trading  wagon,  a  band  of  cowboys,  or  a  gang  of 
desperadoes  like  those  headed  by  Curley,  who  him- 
self was  a  notorious  horse  thief,  caused  a  ripple  of 
excitement  by  an  unexpected  incursion  into  to\vn; 
but  through  the  day  Holcomb  is,  generally  speak- 
ing, given  over  to  comparative  quiet. 

But  after  sundown  Holcomb  shakes  off  its  leth- 
argy. The  one  wide  street  teems  with  red  and  blue 
shirted  humanity.  Miners  from  tunnel  and  shaft, 
sooty  workmen  from  the  smelting  furnaces,  and 
swarthy  toilers  from  the  stamp  mills,  engineers  and 
mine  owners,  adventurers  and  speculators,  touch  el- 
bows in  the  ever  restless  and  moving  crowd. 

It  was  early  in  the  evening  when  Tom  Dean  re- 
traced his  steps  from  the  trading  wagon  toward  the 
Vendome,  and  he  was  struck  with  astonishment  at 
the  sight  of  so  much  stir  and  bustle. 

The  click  of  billiard  balls,  the  clinking  of  glasses, 
and  the  sounds  of  loud  laughter,  blended  discord- 
antly with  the  jangle  of  a  cracked  piano,  as  he  passed 
the  wide  open  door  of  the  largest,  and  consequently 
worst,  den  of  infamy  in  Holcomb. 


THAT  TEEASUEE.  139 

Behind  a  long  bar  counter  at  the  side  stood  the 
proprietor,  a  swarthy  Spaniard  known  as  Rafe,  with  a 
cigarette  between  his  white  teeth,  overseeing  his 
two  barkeepers,  who  were  dealing  out  the  liquid 
poison  to  a  noisy  crowd,  among  whom  Tom  noticed 
were  Curley  and  two  or  three  of  his  gang. 

As  Tom  stood  glancing  in  at  this  to  him  entirely 
new  phase  of  Western  life,  some  one  touched  him 
on  the  shoulder.  Turning  quickly  about,  Tom  saw 
young  Saxton.  He  had  discarded  his  white  shirt 
for  a  colored  one  of  boating  flannel,  had  left  off  his 
vest,  and  was  evidently  beginning  to  adapt  himself 
to  the  customs  of  the  country. 

"  Come  in  and  take  a  drink,  Dean,"  he  said,  in  a 
friendly  voice;  "  and  then  when  there's  a  chance  at 
the  billiard  table  we'll  have  a  game  or  two;  in  Home, 
you  know,  one  must  do  as  the  Romans  do." 

"I  don'fc  drink;  I  don't  play  billiards;  and  we're 
not  in  Rome,"  was  the  uncompromising  reply. 

"  Ah,  you'll  soon  get  rid  of  all  that  squeamish- 
ness  if  you  stay  in  San  Francisco  any  time,"  said 
Saxton,  coolly.  "Fact  is,"  he  went  on,  as  Tom 
shrugged  his  shouiaers,  "  it's  all  very  well  for  a  fel- 
low to  steady  down  after  he  gets  to  be  thirty  or 
thereabouts;  but  till  then  I  believe  in  a  young  fel- 
low's having  his  fling — sowing  his  wild  oats,  don't 
you  know  ?" 

"  I  know,"  steadily  replied  Tom,  "  that  in  an  old 
fashioned  book  which  young  fellows  are  apt  to 
make  light  of,  it  says:  'Whatsoever  a  man  soweth, 
that  also  shall  he  reap;'  and,  short  as  my  life  has 
been,  I've  seen  and  heard  enough  to  find  that  it  is 
true." 

"  Well,  don't  preach,"  was  the  impatient  answer; 
but  Tom  noticed  a  shadow  pass  over  his  compan- 
ion's good  looking  face  as  he  spoke. 

"Preaching  isn't  in  my  line,"  said  Tom,  gently, 


140  THAT  TKEASUKE. 

drawing  Saxton  a  little  on  one  side  out  of  the  glare  of 
light  that  streamed  from  the  open  door;  "  but  look 
here,  Saxton,  if  you  go  in  there  you'll  only  get  into 
trouble  with  that  brute  Curley,  who  is  three  quarters 
drunk  already.  Come  back  to  the  Vendome;  there's 
some  one  I  want  to  inquire  about  in  San  Francisco, 
whom  possibly  you  may  know." 

Perhaps  curiosity  to  learn  something  more  about 
Tom,  whose  reticence  concerning  himself  had  rather 
piqued  his  new  acquaintance,  was  the  motive  of  Sax- 
ton's  final  acquiescence.  And  possibly  Tom's  gentle 
rebuke  might  not  have  been  entirely  lost. 

"  Pity  I  hadn't  had  some  one  like  you  at  my  elbow 
all  my  life,  instead  of  the  one  I  have  had,"  he  said, 
abruptly,  as  the  two  turned  away  from  the  noisy 
revelry  which  was  growing  more  furious  every  mo- 
ment. 

"  Saxton,"  exclaimed  Tom,  impetuously, "  it's  never 
too  late  to  mend.  If  you've  gone  a  bit  wrong — 
which  of  course  I  know  nothing  about — why  don't 
you  turn  square  round,  and  go  back  to  your  home  ?" 

In  the  clear  moonlight,  Tom  could  see  the  mus- 
cles of  his  companion's  face  twitching  convulsively. 
But  Saxton  pulled  himself  together,  and  said,  de- 
cisively: 

"  You're  very  kind,  Dean,  but  you  don't  know.  In 
my  case  it  is  too  late." 

Tom  saw  that  he  could  not  well  pursue  the  sub- 
ject without  seeming  inquisitive,  so  he  said  no 
more. 

Elbowing  their  way  along  the  noisy  thoroughfare, 
the  two  reached  the  Vendome  piazza.  They  found 
it  entirely  deserted,  and  seated  themselves  in  the 
clear  moonlight. 

"  The  person  I  wanted  to  ask  about,"  began  Tom, 
referring  to  the  paragraph  in  his  diary,  "  though  of 
course  it's  only  barely  possible  that  you  may  know 


THAT  TREASURE.  141 

or  have  heard  of  the  name,  is  a  Mr.  Gr.  S.  Grey- 
son " 

It  was  probably  the  report  of  the  pistol  or  rifle 
shot,  which  suddenly  rang  out  a  little  way  down  the 
street,  that  caused  Torn  Saxton  to  start  so  vio- 
lently at  this  juncture. 

So  at  least  Tom  supposed  as  Saxton  sprang  to  his 
feet  and  gazed  eagerly  in  the  direction  of  the  shot. 
A  number  of  passing  pedestrians  turned  and  ran  to- 
ward the  open  door  of  one  of  the  saloons. 

"  There's  some  sort  of  a  row  at  Rafe's,"  said  Tom. 
At  the  same  moment  the  peace  loving  colonel,  fol- 
lowed by  a  number  of  others,  dashed  out  on  the 
piazza  and  into  the  street,  duly  armed  and  equip- 
ped "  according  to  law,"  to  quote  Mr.  Diggs,  who 
with  a  due  regard  for  his  personal  safety  had  staid 
behind. 

"  Better  stay  here,"  he  added. 

A  sudden  irregular  discharge  of  firearms  in  the 
street,  and  the  whistling  of  two  or  three  stray  bul- 
lets, in  the  direction  of  the  building,  gave  point  to 
the  warning. 

Amid  a  hoarse  chorus  of  yells  and  oaths,  accom- 
panied by  popping  of  revolvers,  half  a  dozen  or 
more  mounted  men  dashed  past  the  piazza  like  a 
whirlwind. 

"Curley's  gang — an'  a  mighty  good  riddance,"  ex- 
claimed Mr.  Diggs,  with  a  sigh  of  evident  relief. 
And  as  the  little  affair  was  evidently  over,  he  went 
in  to  relieve  Britzer  at  the  bar. 

"What  was  the  trouble,  colonel ?"  eagerly  asked 
Tom,  as  that  individual,  breathless  and  hatless,  re- 
turned to  the  hotel. 

"No  trouble  at  all,"  returned  Colonel  North,  pleas- 
antly, after  he  had  blown  the  smoke  from  the  barrel 
of  his  gun;  "only  that  Curley  shot  the  sheriff,  who 
was  trying  to  arrest  him,  and  as  his  gang  were  in- 


142  THAT  TKEASUKE. 

dined  to  make  some  little  trouble,  we  quietly  ran 
them  out  of  town  —  that  is  all;  but  Curley  himself 
•  —  he's  under  lock  and  key  in  the  jail,  by  this  time." 
"  What  will  be  done  with  him  ?"  again  inquired 


"  Nothing  —  if  it  is  left  for  a  jury  to  decide,"  was 
the  energetic  reply;  "he  has  slipped  through  the 
meshes  of  the  law  seven  or  eight  times  already,  I'm 
told,  and  -  " 

"A  word  with  you,  colonel,"  interrupted  Major 
£>mith,  hurrying  up;  and  as  he  whispered  something 
in  the  colonel's  ear,  the  latter  nodded. 

"  I'm  with  them,"  he  said,  approvingly,  and  the 
two,  making  quickly  away  together,  joined  an  ex- 
cited crowd  on  the  nearest  corner,  who  were  talking 
together  in  an  undertone. 

"What  a  singular  person  that  Colonel  North  is," 
eaid  Tom,  after  a  short  silence;  "so  polite,  and  well 
educated.  Yet  he  seems  to  be  hand  and  glove  with 
the  rough  crowd  who  make  up  the  town  here." 

"  He  is  a  singular  person,"  bitterly  replied  Saxton, 
very  much  to  Tom's  surprise;  "a  man  who  would 
take  your  life,  or  pick  your  pocket,  in  the  same 
smooth,  easy  way,  in  which  you  hear  him  talk.  He 
is  thoroughly  unscrupulous,  fears  neither  God  nor 
man,  and  has  been  an  adventurer  from  the  time  he 
was  turned  adrift  by  his  father  for  -  " 

Here,  conscious  that  Tom  was  staring  at  him  ID 
amazement,  Saxton  pulled  himself  up  very  sud- 
denly. 

"What  confounded  nonsense  I'm  talking,"  he 
said,  changing  color  slightly;  "  but  the  fact  is,  while 
you  were  gone  I  had  a  long  yarn  with  this  —  Colonel 
North,  who  might  have  let  out  more  about  himself 
than  he  meant  to.  Without  thinking  what  I  was 
saying,  I  gave  you  my  private  opinion  of  the  man, 
who,  after  all,  may  not  be  half  so  black  as  I've 


THAT  TREASURE.  143 

painted  Mm.  But  to  return  to  what  we  were  speak- 
ing of  when  we  were  interrupted,"  Saxton  went  on, 
hurriedly;  "curiously  enough,  I  happen  to  know 
the  Mr.  Greyson  you  asked  about — in  fact — that  is 
— he  is  an  intimate  friend  of  my  grandfather's." 

"  Well,  that  is  odd,"  returned  Tom,  forgetting  his 
companion's  tirade  against  Colonel  North,  in  his 
eagerness  to  know  more  about  Mr.  Greyson.  "Who 
and  what  is  he,  please  ?" 

"  A  retired  sea  captain,  enormously  wealthy  and 
very  eccentric,"  was  the  slow  reply.  "And  now,  do 
you  mind  telling  me  why  you  asked  about  him  ?"  in- 
quired Saxton,  with  a  curious  side  glance  at  his 
companion. 

Tom  did  not  mind  in  the  least.  On  the  contrary, 
it  was  rather  a  relief  for  him  to  tell  this  young  fel- 
low, so  near  his  own  age,  as  much  of  his  story  as 
was  necessary.  Bringing  out  the  pocket  diary,  he 
read  aloud  the  newspaper  fragments  by  the  clear 
moonlight,  which  was  flooding  everything  with  al- 
most noonday  radiance. 

It  was,  perhaps,  the  moonlight  itself  which  gave 
such  a  ghastly  pallor  to  Saxton's  face,  as  Tom  Dean 
finished  his  narration. 

"  I  don'fc  understand  why  the  professor  kept  the 
newspaper  scrap  from  my  knowledge,  though,"  re- 
marked Tom,  after  vainly  waiting  for  the  young  fel- 
low beside  him  to  break  the  silence. 

"  Perhaps,"  suggested  Saxton,  whose  voice  sounded 
rather  strangely,  "  the  professor,  as  you  call  him, 
had  written  to  Mr.  Greyson,  and  was  waiting  for 
him  to  answer  before  he  told  you  the  whole  story." 

"  I  don't  see  why  Mr.  Greyson  didn't  answer,  if 
the  professor  wrote  to  him,"  persisted  Tom. 

"  Mr.  Greyson  might  never  have  received  the  let- 
ter," was  the  low  reply;  and,  as  though  anxious  to 
change  the  subject,  Saxton  began  trying  to  draw 


HI  THAT  TKEASURE. 

Tom  out  more  fully  regarding  his  former  life  and 
his  adventures  generally,  of  which  he  seemed  to 
have  heard  some  hints.  He  probably  got  these 
from  Halsted,  who  was  seemingly  well  known  to 
many  of  the  habitues  of  the  Vendome,  and  had  been 
hanging  about  the  barroom  since  late  in  the  after- 
noon. 

But  Tom,  mindful  ot  his  companion's  reticence  as 
to  his  own  history,  took  pattern  thereby  so  success- 
fully, that  Saxton  finally  rose.  He  muttered  some- 
thing about  "  turning  in,"  and  stepped  inside  the 
door,  followed  a  moment  later  by  Tom  himself. 

The  interior  was  no  more  inviting  than  by  day- 
light. The  fumes  of  liquor  and  strong  tobacco 
poisoned  the  atmosphere.  Half  intoxicated  roughs 
and  miners  leaned  against  the  bar  counter,  and 
interspersed  their  mutual  confidences  with  oaths  and 
ribald  songs.  Even  the  fluent  pen  of  Bret  Harte 
could  hardly  evolve  a  picturesque  character  or  situ- 
ation from  such  environments. 

Colonel  North,  whom  no  amount  of  liquor  seemed 
to  affect  in  the  least,  was  playing  poker  at  a  rough 
board  table  near  the  door,  with  the  major  as  his 
partner,  and  an  English  lord,  who  was  "  doing  "  the 
Western  country,  and  a  wealthy  cattle  buyer  as 
opponents. 

It  might  have  been  fancy,  but  Tom  thought,  as 
the  colonel  looked  up,  that  a  glance  of  intelligence 
passed  between  him  ;tnd  young  Saxton. 

But  however  this  was,  the  latter,  seemingly  for- 
getful of  his  intention  to  retire,  stepped  behind  the 
colonel's  chair,  where  he  stood  watching  the  prog- 
ress of  the  game. 

A  few  minutes  later,  the  major  rose  from  his  seat, 
exclaiming  that  "  something  he'd  eat  for  supper 
didn't  seem  to  sit  well." 

He  allowed  the  cards  to  fall  from  his  hand,  and, 


THAT  TKEASUEE.  145 

pushing  back  the  stool,  made  a  very  sudden  and 
abrupt  exit. 

"  Oh,  look  here  now,"  exclaimed  Lord  Clinghurst, 
who  was  being  initiated  into  the  national  game, 
"that's  not  the  thing,  don't  you  know." 

"  Perhaps  Mr. — er — Saxton  knows  enough  about 
the  game  to  take  the  major's  hand,"  blandly  sug- 
gested Colonel  North.  And  Tom  could  almost 
have  sworn  that,  as  he  spoke,  the  colonel  threw 
a  meaning  glance  at  Saxton,  who  was  turning 
away. 

Whether  or  not  this  was  the  case,  the  young 
fellow  stopped,  said  something  about  merely  know- 
ing the  rudiments  of  the  game,  and  dropping  into 
the  vacated  seat,  took  up  the  cards  in  a  seemingly 
awkward  manner. 

"  Hum,"  thought  Tom,  "  so  he  spars  like  an  ama- 
teur prize  fighter,  drinks,  and  plays  poker.  For  a 
fellow  who  can't  be  much,  if  any,  older  than  myself, 
I  should  say  that  was  a  bad  lookout.  No  wonder  he 
had  trouble  with  his  grandfather.  And,  more  than 
that," — so  ran  Tom's  musing — "  there's  something 
between  him  and  that  Colonel  North,  although  they 
pretend  to  be  strangers.  Now,  what  does  it  mean, 
I'd  like  to  know  ?" 

But  he  was  too  tired  and  sleepy  to  pursue  the 
question  further,  so  he  turned  toward  the  sleeping 
loft  overhead. 

Carrying  in  one  hand  his  haversack,  which  con- 
tained a  newly  purchased  brush,  comb,  and  a  few 
needed  articles  of  light  underclothing,  together 
with  some  two  hundred  spare  cartridges  that 
were  part  of  the  "  outfit "  for  which  young  Saxton 
had  bargained,  Tom  was  about  to  ascend  the  ladder 
leading  to  the  sleeping  loft  overhead.  Just  then 
Britzer  approached,  with  a  somewhat  uncertain 
step. 


146  THAT  TREASURE. 

"  Say,  Tom,"  he  whispered  loudly,  at  the  same 
time  touching  the  bulging  haversack  with  the  toe 
of  his  boot,  "  why  don't  you  sell  your  gold  before 
you  leave  town,  same's  Sherard  did,  instead  of  lug- 
ging it  round  ?'' 

*'  I  haven't  any  to  sell,"  replied  Tom,  shortly; 
"  what  makes  mv  haversack  so  heavy  is  a  lot  of  car- 
tridges." 

"  Oh,  of  course,"  returned  Britzer,  breaking  into 
an  ironical  laugh.  Without  troubling  to  prove  his 
assertion,  Tom  ascended  the  ladder  to  the  loft,  whose 
uninviting  interior  was  made  dimly  visible  by  a 
lighted  lantern  hanging  from  a  beam. 

"  There's  no  one  sleeps  in  number  six,  Tom;  you 
can  turn  in  there,"  called  Britzer  from  below. 
Making  his  way  between  two  rows  of  canvas  cots, 
furnished  with  pillows  and  gray  blankets,  Tom  de- 
posited his  haversack  under,  and  himself  upon,  the 
cot  designated. 

Tom  was  tired  out,  and  his  eyes  were  soon  closed 
by  a  heavy  drowsiness.  As  he  lay  partly  undressed 
on  the  outside  of  the  cot,  he  had  a  strange  dream, 
which  did  not  seem  to  be  all  a  dream,  either. 

He  fancied  that  Saxton,  whose  cot  was  next  to  his 
own,  approached  with  a  lighted  candle  in  his  hand. 
After  glancing  about  him,  to  make  sure  that  he  was 
unobserved,  he  softly  pushed  the  sleeve  of  Tern's 
woolen  shirt  up  to  the  elbow,  as  his  arm  lay  partly 
extended  from  the  cot. 

Bending  down,  he  seemed  to  look  attentively  at 
some  tiny  blue  scratches  in  the  smooth,  white  flesh, 
which  a  little  stretch  of  imagination  might  convert 
into  one  or  more  initial  letters,  though  Tom  himself 
had  only  thought  of  them  as  a  skin  blemish  or  birth- 
mark. 

"  Yes,  the  '  T '  is  there,  plain  enough  !  I  guess 
the  game  is  up,  sure,"  Tom  dreamed  that  he  heard 


THAT  TREASURE.  147 

Saxton  say,  half  aloud,  as  he  softly  replaced  the 
sleeve,  and  sat  down  on  the  edge  of  his  own  bed. 
Then,  placing  the  candle  on  the  floor,  he  began  un- 
lacing his  boots. 

Still  dreaming — if  he  were  dreaming — Tom  heard 
a  sleepy  voice  near  at  hand,  which  he  recognized  as 
that  of  the  English  tourist,  remark: 

"Say,  Saxton,  Beal  and  I  had  beastly  bad  luck 
tonight,  playing  against  you  and  the  colonel. 
Seems  to  me  you  play  an  uncommon  good  hand  for 
a  young  feller.  I  lost  nearly  five  hundred  dollars 
tonight." 

"Poker  is  a  very  uncertain  game,  Lord  Cling- 
hurst,"  replied  Saxton,  with  a  real  or  affected  yawn, 
as  he  blew  out  the  candle.  Then  there  was  a  short 
silence. 

"  Should  think  so,"  finally  returned  his  lord- 
ship, who  had  included  Holcomb  in  his  tour  simply 
to  see  what  a  typical  Western  mining  town  was 
like.  "Have  the  colonel  or  the  major  come  up  yet, 
do  you  know  ? "  he  asked,  duplicating  Saxton's 
yawn. 

"  Doubt  if  you  see  either  of  them  before  morn- 
ing," said  Saxton,  coughing  dryly;  "  as  I  under- 
stand, they,  with  a  number  of  law  abiding  citizens 
of  Holcomb,  are  holding  a  short  session  of  court, 
presided  over  by  Judge  Lynch,  somewhere  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  jail." 

"Isn't  it  rather  late  in  the  evening  for  that  sort 
of  thing?"  inquired  Lord  Clinghurst,  innocently. 

"Better  late  than  never,"  was  the  somewhat  enig- 
matic answer;  and  then  Tom's  dream  seemed  to  end 
abruptly,  and  when  he  awoke  the  sun  was  streaming 
in  at  the  one  uncurtained  window. 

"Ready  for  that  exchange?"  said  a  voice  near 
him.  Starting  up,  Tom  saw  Saxton,  who  tossed 
coat,  pants  and  vest  upon  the  foot  of  Tom's  cot,  and 


148  THAT  TREASURE. 

proceeded  at  once  to  array  himself  in  the  latter's  re- 
jected habiliments.  Tom,  in  exchange,  donned  Sax- 
ton's  swell  suit. 

When,  a  few  moments  later,  the  two  descended 
to  the  lower  room,  they  found  only  Mr.  Diggs,  the 
proprietor,  Lord  Clinghurst,  and  the  cattle  dealer 
present;  most  of  the  mining  men  having  had  an 
early  breakfast,  and  gone  to  their  work  by  sun- 
rise. 

"  So  you  two  hev  made  the  swap  off  I  he?rd  some 
of  'em  tellin'  about  las'  night,"  observed  Mr.  Diggs, 
staring  very  hard  at  the  two  well  proportioned 
young  fellows  before  him.  "  It's  kind  uv  a  curi's 
freak  on  your  part,  but  I  s'pose  you  know  your  biz- 
ness  better'n  any  one  else,"  he  added. 

Mr.  Diggs  was  chosen  a  sort  of  referee  to  appraise 
the  value  of  Tom's  outfit;  which  he  did  very  fairly, 
all  things  considered. 

"  Hoss  I  call  forty;  Winchester,  beiii'secon'  hand, 
fifteen;  revolver,  ditto,  ditto;  saddle  and  rest  of  hoss 
gear,  includin'  blankits,  say  thirty;  an'  sundries — 
meanin'  haversack,  ketridges,  belt,  knife,  pockit  com- 
pass an'  sich,  ten  more,"  he  announced,  after  consid- 
erable ciphering  with  a  stumpy  pencil.. 

"One  hundred  and  ten — take  my  traveling  bag, 
with  the  underclothing,  etc.,  and  call  it  an  even 
hundred,  Dean,"  said  Saxton,  with  a  sort  of  forced 
gayety. 

"Very  good,"  said  Tom;  and  the  bargain  was 
completed.  From  a  well  filled  pocket  book,  Saxton 
produced  two  fifty  dollar  bills,  which  he  handed 
Tom,  who  put  them  between  the  leaves  of  his  diary, 
with  the  rest  of  his  little  fortune.  After  this,  they 
sat  down  to  breakfast  with  excellent  appetites. 

The  meal  was  soon  over,  and  the  two  Chinamen 
employed  as  waiters  began  clearing  away  the 
dishes. 


THAT  TREASURE.  149 

A  general  adjournment  to  the  piazza  followed. 
Lord  Clinghurst,  who  never  stirred  without  a  field 
glass  in  a  case  hanging  from  his  shoulders,  stood 
leaning  against  one  of  the  rough  supports,  point- 
lug  the  glass  towards  a  distant  clump  of  cotton- 
woods. 

"  Why,  bless  me — there's  a  man  hung  himself  to 
on^  of  the  trees  yonder,"  he  exclaimed,  in  horrified 
accents  which  caused  every  one  to  look  up. 

"  'Tain't  no  sooicide  bizness  —  it's  only  Pete 
Curley,"  remarked  Mr.  Diggs,  coolly,  as  he  pro- 
ceeded to  light  his  pipe.  "  The  boys  busted  in  the 
jail  door  some'res  to'ards  mornin',"  he  concluded, 
blowing  a  cloud  of  smoke  into  the  clear  air;  "  an' 
after  we'd — that  is,"  said  Mr.  Diggs,  correcting  him- 
self, with  a  slight  show  of  contusion,  "after  they'd 
driv  the  jailer  an'  deppity  sheriffs  into  one  o'  the 
cells  an'  locked  'em  in,  we — they,  I  mean,  jest  took 
Pete  out  to  the  cott'nwood  clump  yonder,  giv'  him 
five  minnits  to  say  his  prayers,  an*  run  him  up  whar 
he  orter  ben  five  years  ago." 

Just  then  Halsted,  who  had  evidently  been  walk- 
ing very  fast,  came  up  to  the  piazza,  and  addressed 
Mr.  Diggs. 

"I  dunno  but  it's  all  right,  Diggey,"  he  said, 
rather  hastily;  "but  jes'  now  Cherokee  Charley 
came  in  from  the  range,  an'  says  jest  afore  sunup 
that  Britzer  chap  on  your  sorril  mare,  along  of  Ma- 
jor Smith  an'  the  kernel,  passed  him  on  the  ol* 
Piute  trail,  headin'  to  the  west'ard  an'  gallopin'  like 
mad !" 

The  pipe  dropped  from  Mr.  Diggs's  mouth — per- 
haps forced  therefrom  by  the  torrent  of  imprecations 
which  followed  it. 

"  My  sorril  mare  and  five  weeks'  board  to  them 
two  blamed,  smooth  talkin'  scalawags  clean  gone  !" 
yelled  the  unhappy  Diggs,  who,  with  his  fingers 


150  THAT  TKEASUEE. 

clutched  in  his  unkempt  hair,  seemed  desirous  of 
lifting  himself  off  his  feet  in  his  frenzy. 

But  leaving  Mr.  Diggs  to  bewail  his  losses,  and 
to  lament  that  as  yet  there  was  no  telegraphic  com- 
munication between  Holcomb  and  the  adjoining 
towns,  Tom  betook  himself  to  the  railway  station,  in 
company  with  Mr.  Beal  and  Lord  Clinghurst.  All 
three  of  them  intended  to  leave  Holcomb  on  the 
same  train. 

Tom  bought  a  through  ticket  to  San  Francisco; 
but  as  the  6  P.  M.  express  from  Albuquerque  did  not 
stop  at  Holcomb,  all  three  would  be  obliged  to 
change  at  Daggett,  some  ninety  miles  further  on, 
where  the  express  did  stop,  for  their  several  destin- 
ations. 

"That's  the  worst  of  the  whole  thing,"  growled 
Mr.  Beal  as  they  returned  in  company  to  the  Ven- 
dome;  "for  these  wretched  local  trains  in  this  sec- 
tion of  the  kentry  are  stopped  by  train  robbers 
nigh  as  ofen  as  the  ol'  stage  line  used  to  be." 

Lord  Clinghurst  laughed  lightly. 

"  Stopping  a  mail  coach  is  one  thing,  but  for  rob- 
bers, or  road  agents,  as  I  believe  you  call  'em,  to 
stop  a  railway  train  full  of  passengers — come,  now, 
that's  rather  too  absurd !" 

Mr.  Beal  grunted,  but  made  no  further  comments, 
and  the  trio  reached  the  Vendome.  They  found 
young  Saxton,  in  his  plainsman's  garb,  exercising 
the  Indian  pony  by  running  him  through  the  street 
at  full  speed;  which,  being  quite  one  of  the  customs 
of  the  country,  excited  neither  comment  nor  partic- 
ular attention. 

"  If  you  shoot  as  well  as  you  ride,"  remarked  Tom, 
as  Saxton  leaped  from  the  saddle,  and  gave  the  pony 
into  the  hands  of  the  half  breed  hostler,  "you'll 
make  an  admirable  plainsman." 

"  I  shoot  fairly  well,"  was  the  quiet  reply.     "  My 


THAT  TREASURE.  151 

grandfather,"  he  continued,  sitting  down  beside 
Tom,  "was  one  of  the  ruost  indulgent  of  men  in 
some  things.  I  had  a  saddle  horse  when  I  was  nine 
years  old,  and  after  I  was  big  enough  to  handle  a 
gun  I  spent  almost  every  vacation  at  a  hunting 
lodge  in  the  Yellowstone  Park,  with  some  friends 
of  his;  so  I  got  to  be  quite  a  good  shot  for  a  young- 
ster." 

"And  to  think  you'd  leave  such  a  home  as  you 
must  have  had  for  the  life  that  you  have  taken  up!" 
exclaimed  Tom,  impulsively. 

"Some  day  I  fancy  you  will  understand  better 
why  I  did,"  returned  Saxton,  moodily;  "  for  I  have 
a  sort  of  presentiment  that  in  the  course  of  time 
you  and  my  grandfather  will  meet." 

A  brief  silence  followed. 

"  You're  positive  I  didn't  leave  any  letters  in  the 
pockets  of  the  coat  you've  got  on  ?"  asked  young 
Saxton,  suddenly. 

Taking  his  big  wallet  from  the  inside  pocket  of 
the  shirt,  where  Tom  had  kept  the  diary  which  had 
now  been  transferred  to  his  new  suit,  Saxton  was 
turning  over  some  papers  in  one  of  the  compart- 
ments with  a  look  of  anxiety. 

"  Perfectly  sure,"  was  the  confident  answer.  "  Why, 
do  you  miss  anything  ?" 

"  It's  no  consequence.  I  probably  left  it  behind 
in  my  hurry,  or  perhaps  tore  it  up.  I  don't  know, 
and  don't  care,"  replied  Saxton,  fretfully,  as  he 
pushed  his  wallet  back  to  place. 

But  he  soon  regained  his  usual  demeanor,  and 
went  on  talking  of  what  he  meant  to  do.  He  had 
plenty  of  money,  and  perhaps  would  join  a  wagon 
train  or  a  hunting  party  before  long,  that  is,  if 

And  here  this  very  singular  young  man  stopped 
abruptly,  and  changed  the  subject. 

"  I'm  going  to  say  good  by  to  you  now,"  he  said, 


152  THAT  TREASURE. 

rising  and  reaching  for  his  rifle,  which  was  leaning 
against  the  side  of  the  house;  "for  I  think  I'll  take 
a  little  turn  outside  of  the  town,  and  practice  at 
jack  rabbit  shooting  till  dark.  I  suppose  you'll  be 
off  before  very  long." 

'•Well,  good  by,  then,"  returned  Tom,  hardly 
knowing  what  to  make  of  his  peculiar  and  rather 
mysterious  acquaintance,  as  he  shook  him  heartily 
by  the  hand ;  "  who  knows  but  we  shall  meet  again 
some  day?" 

"  Better  if  we  don't/'  muttered  Saxton. 

Pressing  Tom's  hand  again,  his  lips  parted,  as 
though  he  were  about  to  say  something  more.  But 
if  such  was  his  intention,  he  checked  himself,  mut- 
tered "  Grood  by  and  good  luck;"  and,  a  few  mo- 
ments later,  Tom  saw  him  riding  down  the  street. 

Near  the  clump  of  cottonwoods,  from  which  Pete 
Curley's  body  was  still  swinging,  Tom  saw  the 
young  fellow  draw  rein  and  sit  motionless  in  his 
saddle  for  a  short  time. 

"  How  can  he  want  to  look  at  such  a  horrid  sight?" 
thought  Tom,  with  a  shudder,  as  he  turned  and  en- 
tered the  house. 

But  Saxton  was  looking  at  something  else.  It 
was  the  little  compass  he  had  drawn  from  the 
haversack. 

"  Strike  the  Piute  trail  south  of  the  clump  of 
cottonwoods/  he  was  saying,  with  his  eyes  fixed  on 
th^  compass  card;  "and  keep  straight  on  to  Ash 
Forks.  Stop  at  the  Gayety  saloon,  and  wait  for  him 
there;  so  my  orders  were  last  night,  and  there's 
nothing  for  me  to  do  now  but  obey.  I  wonder  what 
new  deviltry  he's  planning  now." 

And,  clapping  his  heels  to  the  plump  sides  of  his 
sturdy  little  steed,  Tom  Saxton  galloped  on  toward 
the  Piute  trail,  drawn  on  by  an  irresistible  destiny 
to  the  strange  events  that  awaited  him. 


THAT  TREASURE.  153 


CHAPTER 

A    DISCOVERY    AND    A   LOSS. 

THE  three  or  four  cars  composing  the  "  local 
train,"  which  ran  through  from  Holcomb  to  Dag- 
gett,  a  distance  of  some  ninety  miles,  in  five  hours, 
were  certainly  not  designed  for  comfort,  any  more 
than  the  wheezing  engine  was  intended  for  speed. 
The  seat  occupied  by  Tom  Dean  and  his  satchel  was 
uncushioned,  and  not  over  clean.  The  atmosphere 
was  redolent  of  cigarette  smoke  and  the  fumes  of 
aguardiente,  which  was  being  consumed  by  a  party 
of  Mexicans  and  half  breeds  at  one  end  of  the 
car. 

Beal,  who  sat  with  Lord  Clinghurst,  immediately 
ahead  of  Tom,  told  the  latter  that  the  rear  car, 
which  was  arranged  with  rude  berths  to  serve 
as  a  sort  of  "sleeper"  for  women  and  children, 
contained  several  emigrant  families,  while  the  one 
beyond  was  filled  with  a  motley  crowd  of  all  sorts. 

As  the  noble  tourist  seemed  to  be  completely 
taken  up  with  some  very  marvelous  stories  of  West- 
ern enterprise  and  adventure,  which  the  worthy 
cattle  buyer  was  relating  with  great  solemnity,  Tom, 
left  entirely  to  his  own  devices,  took  the  opportun- 
ity to  examine  more  particularly  the  contents  of 
his  new  traveling  bag,  into  which  he  had  only 
glanced  before  saying  "  good  by  "  to  the  little  town 
of  Holcomb. 


154  THAT  TKEASUKE. 

The  nice  underclothing,  stockings,  collars,  cuffs, 
and  shirts,  were  all  marked  with  the  initials  "  T.  S. 
G."  This  led  Tom  to  believe  that  their  former 
owner  had  only  told  part  of  his  name,  which  was 
really  Tom  Saxton — something. 

In  a  flat,  wallet-like  receptacle,  Tom  found  some 
papers  and  envelopes,  and,  slipped  in  between  them, 
two  letters  which  Saxton  must  have  overlooked. 

"  Perhaps  these  are  the  ones  he  missed,  when  he 
asked  me  whether  I  found  any  papers  in  my  pocket," 
thought  Tom,  taking  them  mechanically  from  their 
hiding  place. 

One  of  them  was  inclosed  in  a  crumpled  envelope 
on  which  was  a  Mexican  postage  stamp.  And  with 
a  gasp  of  astonishment,  Tom  immediately  recognized 
both  the  handwriting  and  the  address.  The  first 
was  Professor  Dean's  peculiar  chirography,  as 
familiar  to  Tom  as  his  own,  while  the  address  was: 

G.  S.  GREYSON, 

1917  MONTGOMERY  ST.,  SAN  FRANCISCO, 

Up  one  flight.  CAL. 

"  The  letter  was  mailed  in  the  City  of  Mexico  the 
very  day  the  professor  received  his  bundle  of 
New  York  papers,"  muttered  Tom,  turning  very  pale. 

But  what  did  it  mean?  How  had  Saxton,  or 
whatever  his  name  was,  come  into  possession  of 
Professor  Dean's  letter?  What  connection  could 
there  be  between  him  and  this  mysterious  Mr.  Grey- 
son  ?  Why 

But  conjectures  were  of  no  avail,  and  in  a  per- 
fect maze  of  bewilderment  Tom  withdrew  the  letter 
from  the  broken  envelope,  and  opened  it.  It  read 
thus: 

Crrr  OF  MEXICO,  November  3, 1878. 
G.  S.  GBEYSON.  ESQ. 

DEAB  SIB  :  I  have  just  cut  from  a  New  York  paper  this  day 
received  your  advertisement  relating  to  a  notice  inserted  in 


THAT  TREASURE.  155 

city  papers  some  years  ago.  I  had  at  first  intended  proceeding 
at  once  to  San  Francisco  for  a  personal  interview,  but  for 
various  reasons  must  defer  it  till  later,  or,  at  least,  till  I  re- 
ceive an  answer  to  this  letter. 

Now  for  the  subject  in  hand.  I  presume  from  the  wording 
of  your  notice  that  you  had  some  strong  motive  for  insert- 
ing it. 

On  the  evening  of  June  30. 1865, 1  went  to  see  a  friend  off  ty 
the  Fall  River  boat,  which  left  Pier  28,  North  River,  about 
6  P.  M.  After  the  boat  had  swung  away  from  the  wharf,  and 
the  crowd  was  dispersing,  I  felt  a  tug  at  my  coat.  Looking 
down,  I  saw  a  sturdy  looking,  well  dressed  little  fellow,  who 
could  not  speak  plainly  enough  to  make  me  understand  any- 
thing, except  that  his  name  was  "  Tommy,"  and  he  wanted  his 
mamma,  from  whom  "  a  bad  man  "  had  taken  him.  I  took  the 
child  up,  and  at  once  instituted  an  inquiry  oil  the  pier,  but 
without  results. 

I  then  carried  him  to  my  boarding  house,  and  telegraphed 
the  agents  of  the  boat  at  Fall  River  regarding  the  boy.  They 
made  all  due  inquiry  on  arrival  of  the  steamer;  but,  strangely 
enough,  without  success.  I  then  inserted  advertisements  in 
the  prominent  city  dailies,  but  without  avail,  nor  could  the 
police  get  any  clew  whatever  to  the  mother  or  parents  of  the 
lost  child. 

The  only  thing  which  might  furnish  a  trace  as  to  his  identity 
was  a  sort  of  monogram  in  India  ink  on  his  little  arm,  which 
proved  to  be  the  letters  "T.  S.  G.;"  but  they  were  so  finely 
traced,  that  at  the  present  time  only  the  T  is  discernible. 

Tom  is  now  about  seventeen,  and  I  love  him  as  my  own  son. 
My  little  sayings  I  intend  for  him  when  I  pass  to  the  spirit 
world ;  and  in  every  way  I  have  tried  to  care  for  his  welfare  as 
for  my  own. 

I  think  I  have  now  told  you  all  there  is  to  tell.  Whatever 
you  may  know  concerning  his  parentage,  or  to  his  advantage, 
will  be  strictly  confidential,  if  you  choose  to  communicate 
such  mformation.  I  have  said  nothing  as  yet  to  him.  for  fear 
of  raising  false  hopes,  and  shall  preserve  silence  till  I  hear 
from  you.  Hoping  that  you  will  reply  at  once, 

I  am  very  truly,  PKOFESSOB  DEAN. 

Then  followed  the  address,  giving  street  and 
number;  but  Tom  read  no  further.  His  head  was 
in  a  perfect  whirl,  and  as  the  train  went  jolting 
along  over  its  uneven  road  bed,  he  glanced  from  the 
window  at  the- monotonous  landscape,  without  taking 
in  any  of  its  features. 

"That  letter,  which  Mr.  Greyson  has  probably 
never  read,  or  he  would  have  answered  it  at  once, 
will  tell  my  story  and  prove  the  truth  of  it  better 


156  THAT  TREASURE. 

than  I  myself  could  do."    Such  was  Tom's  exultant 
thought. 

But  how  came  it  in  Saxton's  possession  ?  Would 
the  other  letter  throw  any  light  on  this  perplexing 
question  ? 

DEAK  TOM  :  I  am  planning  to  return  to  San  Francisco  just  as 
soon  as  it  is  safe  to  do  so.  The  major  and  I  have  a  grand 
scheme  in  view,  -which  it  will  take  about  two  thousand  dollars 
to  float.  You  must  get  the  money  for  us.  Now  that  you  have 
full  charge  of  old  Greyson's  rent  collecting,  correspondence, 
and  money  matters  generally,  this  will  be  a  comparatively 
easy  thing.  You  have  put  G's  name  at  the  bottom  of  too  many 
smaller  checks  for  my  oenefit  to  stick  at  this,  and  if  you  can't 
cover  up  a  two  thousand  dollar  error  in  the  accounts  ot  a  man 
worth  a  million,  you're  not  the  shrewd  fellow  I  take  you  to  be. 
You  must  get  it  some  way,  and  run  the  chances,  for 'there's  a 
pot  of  nwney  in  our  new  scheme  about  which  you  shall  know 
in  good  time.  If  worst  comes  to  worst,  you  can  light  out  and 
join  me  here — but  not  without  bringing  the,  t<ro  thou'.  I  trust, 
however,  that  it  will  not  come  to  that.  You  have  a  shrewdness 
and  sagacity  beyond  your  years,  or  you  never  could  have 
played  your  part  as  olii  Greyson's  grandson  and  possible  heir 
so  finely  as  you  have  done,  since  you  were  ola  enough  to 
understand  from  rne  how  you  really  stood  in  the  matter.  My 
address  is  the  same.  COLONEL  FKANCIS  NOKTH. 

Holcomb,  Arizona. 

"Well,  I  wouldn't  have  believed  there  was  such 
villainy  in  the  world !"  exclaimed  Tom,  as  a  shadowy 
idea  of  how  things  really  stood  began  to  shape 
itself  in  his  bewildered  mind! 

Carefully  folding  the  two  letters,  which  might  be 
of  such  inestimable  service  to  him,  Tom  placed 
them  between  the  leaves  of  his  diary  and  gave  him- 
self up  to  reflection ! 

Whatever  else  was  incomprehensible  in  the  mat- 
ter, one  thins:  was  plain.  Mr.  Greyson,  instead  of 
being  the  intimate  friend  of  young  Saxton's  so 
called  grandfather,  was  the  grandfather  himself, 
though  in  name  only.  Colonel  North's  letter  showed 
very  conclusively  the  imposition  which  had  been 
practiced  upon  the  wealthy  old  man  for  purposes  of 
gain. 


THAT  TREASURE.  157 

Further  than  this,  all  was  purely  conjecture.  Re- 
solved not  to  buoy  himself  up  with  any  false  hopes 
which  might  never  be  realized,  Tom  resolutely  tried 
to  dismiss  the  subject  from  his  mind  until  he  could 
see  Mr.  Greyson  face  to  face. 

The  voice  of  Lord  Clinghurst,  raised  above  the 
rattle  and  rush  of  the  train,  disturbed  his  reflec- 
tions. 

"  Can't  understand  it,  Mr.  Beal;  'pon  my  word  I 
can't,"  he  was  saying;  "  especially  in  a  country 
where  every  other  fellow  goes  armed,  whether  he's 
traveling  or  not.  I  s'pose  " — turning  in  his  seat — • 
"you,  Mr. — er — Dean,  carry  some  kind  of  a  pistol 
about  you — eh  ?" 

Tom  shook  his  head. 

"  Well,  you  do,  Mr.  Beal  ?" 

"  Only  a  pocket  pistol  of  this  kind,"  returned  the 
cattle  drover,  pulling  a  wicker  flask  from  his  coat 
pocket  and  shaking  it  gently. 

"  I've  got  one,  at  any  rate,"  said  Lord  Clinghurst, 
exhibiting  an  elaborately  mounted  and  chased 
Smith  and  Wesson,  "  and  if  half  a  dozen  desperadoes 
such  as  you've  been  telling  about  were  to  enter  the 
train,  do  you  suppose  I'd  sit  quiet  and  give  up  my 
money  and  valuables " 

The  sharp  whistle  of  the  locomotive  for  "down 
brakes  "  cut  short  Lord  Clinghurst's  boast. 

The  grinding  of  the  brakes  and  sudden  slowing 
down  of  the  train,  followed  by  a  shock  as  though 
some  obstacle  on  the  track  had  been  encountered, 
caused  a  general  uprising  of  the  passengers. 

"  Ladrones — ladrones  !"  yelled  the  Mexican  brake- 
man,  poking  his  head  into  the  rear  door.  In  au  in- 
stant all  was  confusion. 

"  Chance  for  your  pistol,  Clinghurst !"  exclaimed 
Mr.  Beal,  as  he  rapidly  transferred  a  capacious 
pocket  book  from  his  coat  into  a  number  seven  shoe, 


158  THAT  TEEASUEE. 

and  slipped  his  watch  and  chain  down  the  leg  of  the 
other  stocking. 

But  before  Lord  Clinghurst,  whose  healthy  En- 
glish color  had  suddenly  fled,  could  reply,  or  Tom 
Dean  could  collect  his  own  scattered  senses,  a  small, 
plainly  dressed  man,  whose  face  was  hidden  by  a 
crape  or  cambric  mask  with  eyeholes,  stepped 
quickly  inside  the  door,  holding  a  cocked  double 
barreled  gun  at  his  shoulder. 

"  Money  and  valuables,  if  you  please,  gentle^ 
men,"  he  said,  in  what  was  evidently  a  feigned 
voice. 

A  thick  set  personage,  masked  like  the  other,  and 
wearing  his  blue  shirt  after  the  manner  of  a  carter  s 
frock,  entered  at  the  rear  door.  He  carried  a  heavy 
revolver  in  his  grasp.  Walking  swiftly  up  the  aisle, 
the  train  robber  presented  his  weapon. 

Lord  Clinghurst,  with  a  blanched  face,  handed 
over  his  gold  chronometer  and  a  well  filled  note 
case.  Mr.  Beal,  uttering  audible  imprecations,  ex- 
tended a  worn  calf  skin  wallet. 

"  No  fooling — off  with  your  shoes !"  and,  heavy 
hearted,  the  cattle  buyer  obeyed. 

"Now  you !"  was  the  sharp  demand,  emphasized 
by  the  muzzle  of  the  revolver  at  Tom's  temple;  and 
he  had  no  resource  but  to  obey. 

"  Take  the  money  that's  in  it,  but  leave  me  the 
book  and  two  or  three  papers,"  he  began,  when  the 
diary  was  snatched  rudely  from  his  grasp.  With 
the  other  valuables,  it  was  handed  over  to  him  of  the 
double  barrel,  who,  still  holding  his  gun  in  readi- 
ness, walked  down  the  aisle  to  receive  the  booty. 

Seizing  Tom's  traveling  bag  from  the  seat,  the 
heavily  built  man  followed  his  superior  officer  to  the 
door,  and  the  two  stepped  out  on  the  platform, 
where  they  were  reinforced  by  two  from  the  adjoin- 
ing car. 


THAT  TREASUEE.  159 

Suddenly  Lord  Clinghurst  lugged  out  his  revol- 
ver, and  standing  erect  on  his  seat,  aimed  into  the 
group  on  the  platform. 

"  For  God's  sake,  Clinghurst !"  cried  Beal,  but  the 
remainder  of  the  protest  was  lost  in  the  sharp 
crack !  crack !  crack !  of  three  successive  shots  from 
the  self  cocker. 

The  thick  set  man,  who  was  nearest  the  door, 
staggered  and  fell  backward  to  the  ground  from  the 
car  platform — a  limp,  lifeless  mass;  while  the  smaller 
of  the  two,  uttering  an  exclamation  of  pain,  let  his 
gun  drop  from  his  grasp,  and  clapped  his  hand  to 
his  shoulder. 

At  the  same  moment,  a  partially  tipsy  Mexican, 
emboldened  by  the  unexpected  result,  drew  from 
under  the  seat  a  bell  muzzled  flint  lock  blunderbuss, 
of  a  pattern  only  seen  nowadays  in  collections  of 
antique  weapons.  Drawing  back  the  hammer,  he 
pointed  it  toward  the  door,  shut  both  eyes,  and 
pulled. 

There  was  an  explosion  like  that  of  a  tunnel  blast 
— a  crashing  of  glass  and  splintering  of  wood. 

The  Mexican  was  kicked  nearly  under  the  seat  by 
the  recoil,  but  the  handful  of  buckshot  and  bullets 
with  which  the  old  trabuco  was  loaded  dispersed  the 
train  robbers  as  effectually  as  a  charge  of  cavalry, 
and  in  another  moment  three  mounted  men  galloped 
swiftly  away,  followed  by  two  ineffectual  shots  from 
the  revolver  of  Lord  Clinghurst,  who  himself  was  in 
the  highest  state  of  excitement. 

The  Mexican  brakeman  and  conductor  appeared 
as  though  by  magic  from  somewhere  under  the  car 
wheels,  while  the  engineer  and  fireman,  who  had 
jumped  off  when  the  train  came  to  a  standstill,  came 
back  to  their  respective  posts  as  soon  as  the  danger 
was  over. 

Meanwhile  the  passengers  had  gathered  about  the 


160  THAT  TEEASUEE. 

body  of  the  train  robber,  which  lay  doubled  up  be* 
side  the  track. 

Mr.  Beal  stooped  over  and  took  the  revolver  from 
his  hand,  while  the  Mexican  who  had  used  the  blun- 
derbuss roughly  tore  the  crape  mask  from  the  dead 
mart's  face.  • 

"I'm  derned,"  said  Mr.  Beal,  emphatically,  "if  it 
ain't  that  Britzer  that  lit  out  with  Diggs's  sorril 
mare !  That  bein'  the  case,  it  wouldn't  surprise  me 
none  if  that  air  poker  playin'  cunnel,  and  Major 
Smith  hisself,  was  two  more  of  the  gang." 

Neither  would  it  have  surprised  Tom  in  the  least, 
as  he  remembered  young  Saxton's  testimony  to  the 
colonel's  little  peculiarities,  together  with  other  sus- 
picious circumstances. 

But  Tom  was  by  no  means  in  a  talking  mood.  He 
had  picked  up  his  traveling  bag  where  it  had  been 
dropped,  but  his  money,  and  what  was  almost  as 
much  to  be  lamented,  the  pocket  diary  with  its  con- 
tents, were  gone. 

Silently  he  returned  to  his  seat,  hearing,  like  one 
in  a  dream,  the  excited  gabble  of  tongues  about 
him.  After  the  obstructions  had  been  removed 
from  the  track,  the  train  started  on  again,  leaving 
the  body  of  Britzer  where  it  lay. 

But  Tom  for  the  first  time  felt  discouraged  and, 
cast  down.  His  railway  ticket,  about  seven  dollars 
in  silver,  and  the  contents  of  his  traveling  bag,  to- 
gether with  the  clothes  he  stood  in,  comprised  his 
entire  earthly  possessions.  He  hardly  dared  to 
think  that  he  should  be  lucky  enough  to  regain  his 
lost  gold  or  its  equivalent.  In  this  cheerful  frame 
of  mind,  he  mechanically  ate  and  slept  during  the 
succeeding  three  days  and  nights  of  railway  journey- 
ing, until  the  blue  coated  conductor,  with  an  audi- 
ble sigh  of  relief,  called  out — "  San  Francisco  V 


THAT  TREASURE. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE   IMPORTANT    MEETING. 

PERSONS  sometimes  speak  of  the  sense  of  loneli- 
ness they  have  known,  when,  as  perfect  strangers  in 
some  great  city,  they  felt  that  in  all  the  hurrying, 
busy  throng  that  passed  and  repassed,  there  was 
not  one  who  either  directly  or  indirectly  had  the 
slightest  interest  in  their  well  being  or  even  their 
existence. 

Thip  is  not  always  the  case.  Given  a  well  lined 
pocket  book,  or  even  a  prospect  of  immediate  ern- 
ploymentj  by  which  one  can  pay  his  own  way  till 
something  better  offers,  and  this  feeling  is  by  no 
means  so  depressing. 

But  Tom  Dean  crossed  over  from  the  Oakland 
terminus  of  the  railway,  and  entered  upon  the  popu- 
lous thoroughfares  of  San  Francisco,  with  his  travel- 
ing bag  in  his  hand,  and  less  than  ten  dollars  in  his 
pocket,  without  acquaintances,  friends,  or  letters  of 
recommendation.  I  can  assure  you  that  such  an 
experience,  even  to  a  hopeful  nature,  is  a  very  trying 
one. 

True,  everything  was  dependent  upon  the  result 
of  his  interview  with  the  mysterious  Mr.  Grey  son. 
Yet  the  very  uncertainty  of  his  mission,  without  a 
scrap  of  writing  to  prove  his  identity  or  substantiate 
the  story  he  had  to  tell,  made  the  situation  doubly 
painful  and  embarrassing. 


16*  THAT  TKEASURE, 

In  this  frame  of  mind,  Tom,  aided  by  the  advice 
of  a  friendly  policeman,  sought  out  a  cheap  but 
comfortable  lodging  house  on  Kearney  Street; 
where,  having  paid  in  advance  for  a  room  for  the 
night,  he  left  his  traveling  bag.  After  having  at- 
tended to  his  toilet  with  considerable  care,  he  en- 
joyed at  a  neighboring  restaurant,  for  the  first  time 
in  many  weeks,  a  well  cooked  meal  amid  civilized 
surroundings. 

"  Now  for  it,"  muttered  Tom,  as  he  mentally  girded 
up  his  loins,  and  started  out.  Greatly  wondering1 
within  himself  at  the  ups  and  downs  of  the  populous 
thoroughfares,  he  bent  his  steps  in  the  direction  of 
Montgomery  Street. 

Drifting  with  the  great  tide  of  humanity,  he  soon 
reached  the  wide  and  busy  thoroughfare. 

Suppose  he  could  not  find  Mr.  Greyson!  Or  sup- 
pose, having  found  him,  that  Mr.  Greyson  refused 
even  to  listen  to  him!  True,  somewhere  in  the 
United  States  Tom  had  awaiting  him  a  small  fortune 
— eight  or  nine  thousand  dollars,  if  Britzer's  state- 
ment concerning  Mr.  Shei*ard's  sale  of  the  gold  at 
Holcomb  was  to  be  believed.  Yet  without  a  sum  of 
money  to  pursue  his  search,  the  lost  treasure  could 
hardly  be  recovered.  If  he  had  only  gone  directly 
to  Denver,  which  was  Mr.  Sherard's  destination  after 
leaving  Holcomb,  perhaps  he  might  have  discovered 
something  there. 

With  all  these  conflicting  doubts,  worries,  and  re- 
grets agitating  his  mind,  Tom  reached  the  desig- 
nated number  and  entered  the  great  hallway  between 
the  different  offices.  With  a  fast  beating  heart  he 
ascended  the  wide  stairway,  where  a  continuous 
throng  was  ascending  and  descending. 

"  Come  in,"  said  a  very  gruff  voice,  as  Tom  tapped 
gently  on  the  glazed  upper  half  of  a  door  numbered 
"  3."  In  obedience  to  the  summons  he  entered. 


THAT  TKEASURE.  163 

"  Is  this  Mr.  Greyson  ?"  asked  Tom,  doubtfully,  as 
he  was  confronted  by  a  stern  visaged  old  man,  with 
a  red,  wrinkled,  smooth  shaven  face,  deeply  sunken, 
piercing  eyes,  under  shaggy  gray  brows,  and  short, 
thick  white  hair,  brushed  straight  up  all  over  his 
head. 

"  It's  Cap'n  Greyson — what  do  you  want  ?"  was  the 
curt  response. 

"I  want  to  say  this,"  returned  Tom,  standing 
very  dignified  and  erect  before  Captain  Greyson, 
who  was  eying  him  closely  from  beneath  his  heavy 
brows.  And  then  Tom  told  his  story  from  begin- 
ning to  end,  only  omitting  such  parts  of  it  as  had 
no  bearing  upon  the  main  point  at  issue — that  of  his 
own  identity. 

"  And  here,  sir,"  said  Tom,  stripping  up  his  sleeve 
and  pointing  with  his  finger  to  the  tattooing  on  the 
white  flesh,  "  here  is  a  mark,  which  perhaps  will 
convince  you  that  I  am  no  impostor." 

If  Tom  had  hoped  at  this  juncture  that  Captain 
Greyson,  after  glancing  at  the  half  illegible  letters, 
would  fall  on  his  neck,  exclaiming,  "  me  own  long 
lost  grandson,"  as  happens  on  the  stage,  he  was 
doomed  to  disappointment. 

Captain  Greyson  grunted,  and  taking  a  strong 
magnifying  glass  from  a  drawer  of  the  writing  table, 
closely  examined  the  tracery. 

"The  other  Tom,  who  first  and  last  has  done  me 
out  of  six  or  eight  thousand  dollars,  had  exactly  the 
same  mark,"  he  said,  as  he  laid  aside  the  glass;  and 
Tom's  heart  sank  within  him  at  the  icy  tone  and 
manner  of  the  strange  man. 

"  Allowing  that  all  this  dime  novel  yarn  you've 
been  spinning  is  as  you've  told  it,"  the  captain  con- 
tinued, leaning  back  in  his  chair,  "  what  then — what 
of  it?" 

"Why,"  stammered  Tom,  "I— I— had  hoped " 


164  THAT  TEEASUKE. 

» 

"  To  discover  a  grandfather  who  would  leave  you 
a  million  or  so  when  he  slipped  his  cable,"  coarsely 
interrupted  the  captain,  with  a  grim  smile.  "  Now, 
see  here,"  he  went  on,  before  Tom  could  utter  the 
indignant  protest  tfiat  rose  to  his  lips;  "you've  told 
me  your  story;  now  hear  what  I  have  got  to  say. 
My  wife  died  when  our  son  Tom  was  born,"  said  Cap- 
tain Greyson,  in  a  hard,  unemotional  voice.  "  He 
was  the  only  child.  I  was  sailing  out  of  New  York 
then,  and  making  money  for  myself  and  the  owners, 
hand  over  fist,  for  those  were  money  making  days. 
Tom  went  to  college,  and  had  a  big  allowance. 
While  I  was  away  on  a  long  voyage  he  married. 
The  girl,  who  was  only  eighteen,  was  the  daughter 
of  a  man  I  hated  like  poison — poor  as  poverty,  with 
only  her  pretty  face  and  a  talent  for  music  for  her 
dowry.  How  mad  I  was  when  he  told  me,"  con- 
tinued the  captain,  wrathfully,  roughing  up  his 
short,  bushy  hair  with  both  hands,  "  I  needn't  say. 
Not  so  much  with  him  as  the  scheming  girl " 

"If  you're  speaking  of  my  mother,"  hofcly  inter- 
rupted Tom,  who  felt  intuitively  that  he  was  listen- 
ing to  the  story  of  his  parentage,  "  I'll  trouble  you 
to  be  a  bit  more  respectful !" 

"  Tom  all  over,"  muttered  Captain  Greyson,  in 
an  undertone;  and  Tom,  who  heard  the  words,  felt 
a  strange  thrill  of  expectancy.  But,  affecting  not 
to  have  noticed  the  remark,  he  went  on: 

"I  wouldn't  have  anything  to  do  with  the  matter, 
though  I  did  tell  Tom  that  if  he'd  separate  from  her, 
I'd  settle  money  on  her,  and  Tom  could  come  back. 
But  Tom  said  ne'd  see  me — well,  further  first.  That 
settled  it.  Next  thing  I  heard,"  said  the  captain, 
turning  and  staring  steadfastly  out  of  the  window, 
"  Tom  had — had  died  suddenly  of  pneumonia. 

"  I  had  Tom  put  away  in  Greenwood  beside  his 
mother,"  Captain  Greyson  went  on,  hardening  his 


THAT  TKEASUKE.  165 

roice  again;  "  and  through  my  business  agent  made 
the  widow  an  allowance.  But  I  offered  to  treble  it 
if  she'd  give  up  Tom's  boy  baby,  so  that  I  could 
anake  him  my  heir.  She  wouldn't  hear  of  it.  Some 
city  lots  here  in  San  Francisco,  which  I'd  invested 
in  twenty  years  before,  turned  out  a  bonanza,  and 
later  I  came  on  here  to  live.  Then  I  fell  in  with  that 
smooth  spoken  scoundrel  who  calls  himself  Colonel 
North.  There's  nothing  he  won't  do  for  money,  ex- 
cept be  honest.  He  went  on  East,  I  paying  ex- 
penses, and  managed  to  get  Tom's  boy  in  his  posses- 
sion. The  devil  helps  his  own,  and  it  was  thought 
the  child  had  been  stolen  by  some  wandering  Hun- 
garian street  musicians.  Meanwhile  North,  who 
was  going  to  start  for  San  Francisco  from  Boston 
instead  of  New  York,  where  he  had  taken  the  little 
three  year  old,  got  scared  by  seeing  one  of  Pinker- 
ton's  detectives  on  the  pier  just  as  he  was  going 
aboard  the  Fall  Kiver  boat;  and  in  his  flurry  little 
Tom  got  separated  from  him.  North,  who  was 
wanted  for  some  old  matter,  managed  to  slip  aboard 
the  steamer,  and  after  it  sailed,  I  suppose,  this 
Professor  Dean,  of  whom  you  tell  me,  ran  across  the 
little  chap.  Tom's  widow  had  a  brain  fever  or  some- 
thing— anyhow  the  police  weren't  properly  notified, 
and  I  suppose  that  was  the  reason  the  professor's 
advertising  wasn't  a  success;  and,  as  near  as  I  can 
learn  from  the  detective,  who  has  found  out  consid- 
erable about  the  case,  Professor  Dean  went  back 
into  the  country  with  little  Tom  to  live. 

"  North  wasn't  going  to  miss  the  thousand  dollars 
I'd  offered  him  over  and  above  expenses  if  he 
brought  Tom's  Doy  to  me,  though,"  continued  Cap- 
tain Greyson,  who  was  nervously  pacing  the  office 
floor;  "  so  what  does  he  do  but  get  a  three  year  old 
waif  from  the  Baldwin  Street  Home,  and  bring  it  on 
to  me  as  Tom's  boy.  My  New  York  agent,  having 


166  THAT  TEEASUEE. 

seen  the  real  one,  had  sent  me  a  description  of  him, 
even  to  the  letters  '  T.  S.  G.'  pricked  into  his  baby 
aim  through  some  whim  of  his  mother.  North  had 
imitated  this  with  aniline  ink,  and  I  swallowed  the 
bait.  I  paid  North  his  thousand  dollars,  which 
gave  him  a  sort  of  hold  on  me — so  much  so,  that* 
whenever  he  chose  he  made  my  home  his  own. 
When  Tom  was  old  enough,  I  told  him  of  my  son's 
marriage  against  my  wishes,  and  of  the  way  I  had 
had  my  grandson  (as  I  presumed  him  to  be)  kid- 
naped. He  was  sharp  enough  to  know  when  he  had 
a  good  thing,  so  he  staid  with  me,  as  a  matter  of 
course,  instead  of  going  into  heroics,  and  rushing 
off  East  in  search  of  his  mother " 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say,"  cried  Tom,  starting  ex- 
citedly to  his  feet,  "  that  my — that  your  son's  widow 
is  alive  ?" 

"I  don't  know  to  the  contrary;  but  how  can  I  tell 
my  story  if  you  keep  interrupting  ?"  was  the  testy 
reply. 

Holding  his  hand  before  his  face  to  hide  his  emo- 
tion at  this  unexpected  discovery,  Tom  allowed  Cap- 
tain Greyson  to  go  on. 

"  I  thought  the  boy  took  it  coolly,"  continued  the 
old  man,  with  an  involuntary  frown,  "but  now  I  un- 
derstand it.  Before  that,  North  had  told  him  the 
real  situation,  and  given  him  his  choice  between  be- 
coming a  regular  tool  in  his  hands,  or  being  ex- 
posed to  me  as  a  nameless  foundling  instead  of  old 
Greyson's  grandson  and  legal  heir.  Being  what  he 
was — a  boy  with  inherited  badness,  as  I  shall  always 
think — -he  naturally  chose  to  stay  where  he  was,  and 
for  about  three  years  he  has  been  robbing  me  in  one 
way  and  another  to  put  money  into  that  scoundrel's 
pocket,  as  well  as  his  own.  Then  I  happened  to 
overhear  some  talk  between  him  and  the  colonel, 
who  had  got  into  some  scrape  or  other,  and  came  to 


THAT  1BEASUBE.  167 

him  for  money  to  help  him  get  safe  out  of  town,  and 
this  opened  my  eyes.  And,  by  a  coincidence,  my 
business  agent  in  New  York  ran  across  an  old  file  of 
the  Times  of  1865,  I  think,  with  Professor  Dean's 
notice  of  finding  the  three  year  old  boy.  This  he 
sent  me,  and  I,  keeping  the  matter  secret,  had  the 
advertisement  inserted  that  must  have  brought  out 
the  professor's  letter  you  have  told  about,  which 
was  intercepted  by  that  Tom.  I  suppose  this  letter 
roused  the  boy's  suspicions,  and,  the  night  before  I 
was  going  to  tell  him  that  I'd  found  out  the  whole 
thing,  he  slipped  off  with  something  like  twenty 
five  hundred  dollars  out  of  my  safe,  which  he's 
welcome  to,  if  I  never  see  the  young  rascal's  face 
again." 

Here  Captain  Greyson  drew  a  long  breath.  Tom, 
whose  head  was  in  a  perfect  maze  of  bewilderment, 
sat  wondering  what  would  come  next. 

He  had  not  long  to  wait. 

"Now,"  said  Captain  Greyson,  clearing  his  throat 
and  speaking  in  a  different  tone,  as  he  looked  stead- 
ily at  the  manly  yonng  fellow  before  him,  "  you've 
heard  my  story  and  I've  heard  yours.  I  ain't  what 
might  be  called  fanciful,"  he  observed,  rather  awk- 
wardly, "but  something  has  been  telling  me,  since 
you  explained  yourself,  that  you  are  Tom's  boy,  and 
— and  more  than  that,  I  begin  to  see  Tom's  face  and 
Tom's  ways  as  I  never  saw  them  in — the  other  fel- 
low. Maybe  the  proofs  you've  told  of  will  turn  up 
some  day;  but  never  mind  that  now.  I'm  a  lonely 
old  man,  with  more  money  than  I  know  Avhat  to  do 
with;  and  I  have  neither  chick  nor  cbild  in  the  world 
to  help  me  spend  it,  or  to  inherit  it  after  I'm  gone. 
From  this  time,  Tom,"  said  Captain  Greyson,  with  a 
curious  softening  of  his  harsh  voice,  as  he  laid  his 
wrinkled  hand  on  Tom's  shoulder,  "your  home  will 
be  with  me,  and " 


*$8  THAT  TKEASUKE. 

"  One  moment,"  interrupted  Tom,  in  an  agitated 
voice,  "you   have   spoken   of   my  mother — where  is 


"  G-ood  heavens !"  exclaimed  Captain  Greyson, 
with  a  total  change  of  voice  and  manner,  "  what  has 
that  got  to  do  with  what  I  am  talking  about?  I 
don't  know  where  she  is,  and,  what's  more,  I  don't 
care.  Tom's  widow  is  no  more  to  me  than  any 
other  designing,  scheming,  song  singing  profes- 
sional  " 

Now,  Tom  had  inherited  some  of  the  Greyson 
temper,  as  well  as  the  Greyson  fixedness  of  purpose, 
and  his  face  grew  so  white  with  anger,  that  Captain 
Greyson  pulled  himself  up  short. 

"  Oh,"  returned  Tom,  with  a  curious  inflection  of 
voice,  "  that  is  it.  Very  good,  Now,  grandfather," 
he  said,  rising  to  his  feet  and  drawing  himself  up  to 
his  full  height,  "understand  me,  once  for  all.  If 
you  think  that  I  can,  or  will,  live  in  ease  and  plenty 
while,  for  aught  I  knew,  my  mother" — and  as  he 
pronounced  the  sacred  name,  Tom's  voice  was  trem- 
ulous with  emotion — "is  friendless,  and  perhaps  in 
actual  want,  why  you  are  greatly  mistaken.  Then 
you  refuse  to  give  me  any  clew  whatever  to  her 
whereabouts  ?"  he  said,  looking  the  old  man  steadily 
in  the  face. 

"Yes,  I  do!"  thundered  Captain  Greyson,  stamp- 
ing violently  on  the  floor;  "and  what's  more,  sir,  I 
repeat  what  I  have  said " 

"  You  needn't,"  interrupted  Tom,  coolly,  "  once  is 
enough.  Whatever  you  may  think  about  it,  sir,"  he 
continued,  "  my  first  duty  in  life  is  to  the  mother 
who  gave  me  birth,  and  I  shall  never  rest  until  I 
have  found  her:  perhaps  the  day  may  come  when 
you  will  see  that  I  am  doing  only  what  is  right. 
Good  by,  grandfather,"  and  before  the  astounded 
captain  could  speak,  Tom  was  gone. 


THAT  TKEASUKE.  169 


XX. 

TOM   IN   A    QUEER   COMBINATION. 

'"  A.  SONG  singing  professional.''  The  words  rang 
tn  Tom's  ears,  as,  banging  the  office  door  behind 
mm,  he  hurried  down  the  wide  stairway  into  the 
street.  "  My  mother  must  be  some  sort  of  actress," 
he  mused;  for  Tom,  unlike  most  young  fellows  of 
his  age  at  the  present  clay,  was  not  versed  in  theat- 
rical matters;  his  life  having  been  devoted  to  other 
duties  and  occupations. 

But  how  to  trace  her  by  this  slender  clew  was  a 
most  perplexing  conundrum.  Colonel  North,  it  k 
true,  might  know  something,  directly  or  indirectly; 
but  Tom  had  an  idea  that  his  chances  of  again  en- 
countering this  most  unscrupulous  of  smooth 
tongued  and  gentlemanly  villains  was,  to  say  the 
least,  an  uncertainty. 

A  more  important  question  presented  itself,  after 
returning  to  his  lodging  house  and  reckoning  up 
the  state  of  his  finances.  Fifty  cents  a  day,  in  ad- 
vance, for  a  small  room  on  the  fourth  flight  was  rea- 
sonable, all  things  considered.  But  when  one  has 
less  than  six  dollars  in  his  pocket,  and  a  healthy  ap- 
petite that  refuses  to  be  appeased  by  the  scanty  fare 
of  cheap  eating  houses,  the  most  careful  economy 
will  only  carry  one  to  a  certain  point,  and  then — 
what  next  ? 

Day  after  day  Tom  walked  the  busy  streets  in 
search  of  employment.  The  papers  teemed  with  ad- 


170  THAT  TEEASUKE. 

vertisements  for  skilled  workmen  in  various  depart- 
ments— for  journeymen  tailors  and  smart  salesmen, 
barbers,  and  bookkeepers,  electricians,  and  entry 
clerks;  but,  alas  1  without  experience  in  the  several 
branches,  it  was  of  no  avail  to  apply. 

Exchanging  his  stylish  suit  for  a  shabby  second 
hand  one,  Tom  gradually  drifted  from  one  lodging 
house  to  another  in  a  descending  scale,  and  to  rest- 
aurants of  a  cheaper  and  cheaper  order.  Sometimes 
he  got  a  job  about  the  wharves  for  half  a  day.  Once 
he  drove  a  mule  team  for  three  whole  days,  while 
the  proprietor  thereof  was  recovering  from  a  de- 
bauch. But  three  weeks  of  this  kind  of  life  was 
quite  enough — too  much  in  fact. 

"  111  have  one  more  try,"  mused  Tom,  as  he  rose 
from  a  light  and  unsatisfactory  repast  of  heavy  rolk 
and  muddy  coffee  at  a  ten  cent  restaurant  on  Kear- 
ney Street,  on  a  certain  bright  breezy  morning; 
"  and  if  I  can't  see  some  way  to  something  better 
than  this  sort  of  existence,  I'll  go  back  and  ask 
grandfather  Greyson  to  help  me  find  something  to 
do — for  very  shame's  sake  he  can't  refuse." 

"With  this  determination  in  his  mind,  Tom  took  his 
way  down  California  Street,  half  envious  of  the 
dapper  clerks,  the  neatly  dressed  salesmen,  and  the 
better  class  of  mechanics,  who  were  hurrying  along, 
each  to  his  own  place  of  employment 

\VANTED-HALF  A  DOZEN  MEN  WHO  CAN  KIDE  WELL. 

Apply  at  the  office  of  the  G.  C.  N.  M.  &  A.  A.  M.  CO.,  No.  5. 
1st  floor. 

This  peculiar  placard  caught  Tom's  eye,  as  he  was 
passing  the  hallway  of  a  handsome  granite  block. 

"Any  one  who  can  manage  a  bucking  bronco 
ought  to  be  said  to  ride  well,  and  I've  done  that 
more  than  once,"  mused  Tom,  as  he  stepped  into  the 
wide  hall  to  investigate  further'  "  so  I  think  I'll  in- 
quire into  this." 


THAT  TEEASUKE.  171 

"  No.  5,  1st  floor,"  was  occupied,  according  to  the 
emblazoned  inscription  over  the  door  and  on  the 
ground  glass  window,  by  the  Grand  Consolidated 
New  Mexico  and  Arizona  Argentiferous  Mining 
Company,  duly  incorporated  according  to  the  laws 
of  the  State.  The  president  was  one  Senor  Em- 
manuel Gromez,  and  the  directors  were  evidently — if 
names  are  any  criterion — titled  men  of  foreign 
lineage. 

In  the  small  outer  room,  which  Tom  entered,  some 
half  dozen  shabbily  dressed  individuals  of  different 
nationalities  were  undergoing  a  sharp  cross  ques- 
tioning from  a  small  keen  eyed  man  who  represented 
himself  as  Mr.  Leroy,  general  business  manager  of 
the  Grand  Consolidated. 

Half  an  hour  later  a  little  cavalcade  of  horsemen 
rode  down  one  of  the  principal  streets,  whose  pe- 
culiar garb,  no  less  than  their  method  of  procedure, 
created  a  decided  sensation,  even  in  the  crowded 
thoroughfares  of  a  great  city  where  novel  and  curi- 
ous sights  are  the  rule,  rather  than  the  exception. 

Each  of  the  six  wore  the  picturesque  garb  of  a 
Mexican  haciendo,  attired  in  holiday  costume.  A 
short,  natty  looking,  black  cloth  jacket,  adorned 
with  large  silver  plated  buttons,  without  a  vest, 
worn  over  a  fancifully  ruffled  white  shirt;  black 
trousers,  with  a  double  row  of  buttons  following  the 
seam;  high  top  boots,  silver  placed  spurs,  and  a  red 
sash,  together  with  a  rather  briganclish  sombrero — 
this  was  a  dashy,  not  to  say  showy,  sort  of  street  ap- 
parel; and  the  troupe,  headed  by  Tom  Dean,  on  a 
silver  gray  horse,  speedily  began  to  attract  general 
attention. 

Before  him,  on  his  saddle,  each  man  carried  a 
bright  colored  Mexican  serape;  a  neatly  coiled  lasso 
was  suspended  from  the  high  pommel,  and  over  his 
left  arm  hung  a  bundle  of  small  handbills,  which 


172  THAT  TREASURE. 

were  distributed  right  and  left  to  the  wondering 
crowd 

From  a  copy  of  one  of  the  latter,  which  lies  before 
me,  I  quote  as  follows: 

The  newly  formed  combination  of  wealth  and  enterprise, 
known  as  the  Grand  Consolidated  New  Mexico  and  Arizona  Ar- 

§entiferous  Mining  Company,  whose  office  is  at  304  California 
treet,  have  taken  this  novel  and  unique  method  of  calling  the 
attention  of  the  public  to  an  undertaking  which  promises,  be- 
yond the  shadow  of  a  doubt,  the  most  satisfactory  returns  to 
investors  ever  offered  in  San  Francisco. 

Then  follows  a  most  enticing  statement,  or  pros- 
pectus, of  the  mining  company  in  question,  showing 
the  impossibility  of  losses  and  certainty  of  enormous 
profits  to  stockholders  who  were  willing  to  buy  one 
or  more  shares  at  the  low  figure  of  ten  dollars  per 
share;  the  purchase  money  to  be  used  in  the  further 
development  of  the  rich  mining  lands  recently  dis- 
covered in  Northwestern  Arizona,  the  sole  property 
of  the  G-.  C.  N.  M.  and  A.  A.  M.  Co.,  together  with 
the  affidavits  of  various  prospectors,  civil  engineers, 
and  assayers. 

But  with  the  truth  or  falsity  of  these  glowing 
statements  Tom  Dean  had  nothing  to  do.  He  was 
to  be  paid  two  dollars  a  day  for  a  comparatively  easy 
task,  the  novelty  of  which  was  not  altogether  un- 
pleasant. Mindful  of  Mr.  Leroy's  parting  injunc- 
tions to  keep  in  the  principal  and  busiest  streets, 
Tom  guided  the  little  troupe  through  the  thronged 
thoroughfares,  without  much  trouble,  occasionally 
pausing  at  some  street  corner  long  enough  to  circu- 
late a  large  number  of  handbills  to  a  gaping 
crowd,  and  then  riding  slowing  onward  to  another 
point. 

Down  through  Montgomery  Street  and  into 
Kearney  rode  the  novel  cavalcade,  scattering  their 
yellow  placards  right  and  left,  till  the  supply  was 
exhausted.  Two  men  were  sent  back  to  the  office 


THAT  TKEASUKE.  173 

for  a  fresh  supply,  while  the  four  others  sat  in  their 
saddles,  surrounded  by  the  usual  cosmopolitan 
crowd  peculiar  to  the  streets  of  San  Francisco,  and 
patiently  awaited  their  companions'  return. 

"  How  like  you  this  way  to  make  the  two  dollar  a 
day,  armgof"  laughingly  inquired  the  circus  per- 
former, reining  up  his  fiery  little  Pinto  steed  beside 
Tom,  whose  own  horse  was  rendered  restive  by  the 
encroaching  throng. 

Tom's  reply  was  prevented  by  a  sudden  outcry 
from  the  outskirts  of  the  croAvd,  which  began  scat- 
tering right  and  left  with  marvelous  celerity. 

"  Look  out,  lady !"  shouted  half  a  dozen  excited 
men  from  the  nearest  place  of  safety,  as  a  tall,  hand- 
somely dressed  lady,  escorted  by  a  small  hungrj 
faced  man  in  broadcloth,  started  to  cross  the 
street. 

The  warning  came  an  instant  too  late.  A  wild 
eyed,  long  horned  steer,  which  had  escaped  from  a 
drove  at  North  Beach,  came  dashing  round  the 
corner  of  Pacific  Street  with  gleaming  eyeballs  and 
distended  nostrils,  bearing  straight  down  toward 
the  lady  and  her  escort. 

Now  a  steer  fresh  from  the  ranch  is  as  dangerous 
to  life  and  limb  as  a  mad  bull.  It  is  not  very  sur- 
prising that  the  small  man,  casting  one  terrified 
glance  at  the  approaching  beast,  turned  still  paler, 
and,  forgetful  of  his  companion,  made  good  his 
own  escape  into  the  nearest  store  door  across  the 
way. 

Tom  Dean  was  in  no  sense  an  expert  in  the  use  of 
the  lasso,  yet  under  the  instruction  of  his  former  as- 
sociate, William  the  plainsman,  he  had  learned  to 
throw  one  with  some  little  degree  of  accuracy.  No 
sooner  had  his  eye  taken  in  the  lady's  peril,  than, 
snatching  the  lariat  from  his  saddle  pommel,  he 
Swung  it  thrice  round  bis  head,  and  in  another  in- 


174  THAT  TREASURE. 

stant  the  slender  coil  went  hurtling  through  the 
air. 

A  shout  of  exultation  arose  from  the  excited  on- 
lookers. By  the  merest  good  luck  in  the  world  the 
slip  noose  settled  down  over  the  upraised  fore  toot 
of  the  ferocious  animal,  whose  long,  sharp  horns 
were  lowered  to  impale  the  terror  stricken  victim. 

Fortunately  for  Tom  Dean,  who  himself  had  no 
very  clear  idea  what  next  he  had  better  do,  the 
horse  beneath  him  decided  the  question. 

For  the  intelligent  animal  was  one  of  a  number 
that  had  belonged  to  a  standard  "  Wild  West  Com- 
bination," Mr.  Leroy  having  bid  in  the  horses  and 
their  equipments  at  the  sheriff's  sale  for  a  very  low 
figure. 

And  mindful  of  his  equestrian  performances  with 
the  clumsy  buffalo,  no  sooner  had  the  lariat,  whose 
other  end  was  fast  to  the  pommel  of  Tom's  saddle, 
straightened  out  like  a  bowstring,  than  the  horse 
fell  suddenly  back  on  his  haunches  in  such  a  way 
that  only  Tom's  firm  seat  in  the  saddle  saved  him 
from  a  downfall. 

But  the  desired  effect  was  attained.  The  steer's 
leg  was  suddenly  jerked  from  beneath  him,  and  with 
a  bellow  of  terror  the  huge  beast  rolled  ignomini- 
ously  in  the  dust,  where  he  was  at  once  dispatched 
by  a  ball  from  the  revolver  of  a  valiant  policeman. 

Amidst  what  is  known  as  "  thunders  of  applause," 
Tom  recovered  his  lariat,  and  hung  it  in  its  coil  on 
the  saddle  peg,  gazing  rather  interestedly  the  while 
after  the  lady.  Having  shewn  some  slight  symp- 
toms of  faintness,  she  had  been  assisted  into  the 
nearest  drug  store. 

But  the  two  others  had  now  returned  with  a  fresh 
supply  of  handbills.  Laughingly  escaping  the 
queries  of  a  sharp  eyed  reporter,  Tom  and  his  com- 
panions rode  on  as  before. 


THAT  TREASUBE.  175 

With  an  interval  for  lunch  at  a  cheap  restaurant 
at  noon,  the  six  continued  their  occupation  till 
nearly  nightfall.  Then,  having  left  their  horses  and 
exchanged  their  clothing  at  the  stable,  they  all  re- 
ported at  the  office,  where  each  promptly  received 
his  pay  and  departed. 

"  Stop  a  bit,  young  man,"  said  Mr.  Leroy,  in  an 
undertone,  as  Tom,  who  happened  to  be  last,  was 
leaving  the  anteroom;  "the  chief  has  seen  that  little 
affair  of  yours — lassoing  the  steer,  you  know — in  the 
evening  edition  of  the  Chronicle,  and  wants  to  speak 
to  you  in  the  other  room." 

And  before  Tom,  who  was  considerably  surprised 
at  the  remark,  could  reply,  Mr.  Leroy  had  ushered 
him  into  an  adjoining  apartment.  Its  fittings  and 
furnishings,  the  showy  oil  paintings  hanging  against 
the  frescoed  walls,  and  the  rich  carpet  on  the  floor, 
were  of  such  a  luxurious  order  as  to  make  Tom 
open  his  eyes  more  widely  than  was  his  wont. 

"President  Gomez,  this  is  the  young  man  you 
wished  to  see,"  said  Mr.  Leroy,  respectfully,  as  a 
medium  sized  personage,  elaborately  attired  in 
broadcloth  and  fine  linen,  wheeled  about  in  a  revol- 
ving chair,  and  confronted  Ihem. 

If  Senor  Gomez  started  slightly,  as  Mr.  Leroy 
left  Tom  standing  in  the  full  glow  of  the  softened 
electric  light,  he  cleverly  covered  the  movement  by 
quickly  rising  and  stepping  to  the  marble  mantel,  on 
which  stood  a  box  of  choice  cigars. 

Senor  Gomez  was  comparatively  young,  to  judge 
by  the  glossy  blackness  of  his  hair  and  carefully 
trimmed  mustache,  both  of  which,  however,  betrayed 
a  suspicious  purplish  hue  in  certain  lights.  But 
traces  of  crows'  feet  and  wrinkles  were  visible  in  the 
searching  light,  and  Tom  began  to  suspect  that  the 
senor  might  have  had  recourse  to  art  to  conceal  the 
marks  of  advancing  years. 


176  THAT  TKEASUKE. 

Kather  to  Tom's  surprise,  President  Gomez  be- 
trayed a  curious  sense  of  embarrassment  or  uneasi- 
ness, as  though  in  some  way  he  had  expected  to  see 
a  very  different  person  from  his  visitor. 

"  I  read  in  the  papers  of  your  lassoing  the  steer 
this  forenoon,"  he  finally  said,  speaking  in  a  rather 
low  mumbling  voice,  and  using  singularly  good  En- 
glish for  even  an  Americanized  Spaniard.  "It  is  a 
good  advertisement  for  us,  and  here — you  will  take 
this." 

Nervously  puffing  at  his  cigar  as  he  thus  spoke, 
the  president,  whose  face  was  slightly  averted,  held 
out  a  glittering  five  dollar  gold  piece. 

"  There,  bueno,  no  thanks,"  hastily  interrupted  the 
senor,  as  Tom  very  gratefully  took  the  unexpected 
benefaction.  "Now  I  have  business;  vaya,  adios." 

Cling-g-g  went  the  telephone  bell  at  that  mo- 
ment. Seemingly  forgetful,  for  the  moment,  of 
Tom's  presence,  Gomez  stepped  quickly  to  the  in- 
strument. 

"  Yes — what  do  you  want  ?"  he  said  in  reply  to 
some  far  away  questioner;  and  Tom,  whose  hand 
was  on  the  door  knob,  started  in  his  turn. 

An  indistinct  murmur  was  heard,  and  in  clear, 
even,  and  remarkably  familiar  tones,  Senor  Gomez 
replied  with  his  lips  at  the  orifice: 

"  No !  And  have  the  extreme  goodness,  Major 
Smith,  to  tell  him,  with  my  compliments,  that  if  he 
took  a  thousand  shares  the  rate  would  be  precisely 
the  same.  Good  by." 

That  the  speaker  was  President  Gomez,  of  the 
Grand  Consolidated  Mining  Company,  was  to  out- 
ward seeming  an  assured  fact;  but  the  voice,  to 
which  Tom  could  have  sworn  anywhere,  was  that  of 
Colonel  North,  the  avowed  champion  of  the  peace 
and  good  morals  of  the  border  town,  where  Tom 
had  first  met  him. 


THAT  TBEASUBE.  177 


CHAPTEK  XXL 

TOM'S  QUEST. 

WHAT  did  it  mean  ? 

"  Well,  pray,  what  are  you  stopping  for  ?"  angrily 
demanded  the  president  of  the  Grand  Consolidated, 
as  he  turned  from  the  telephone  and  encountered 
Tom's  bewildered  gaze. 

"I  was  thinking,"  replied  Tom,  forgetting  his 
usual  caution  in  the  excitement  of  his  discovery, 
"  how  much  your  voice  sounded  like  that  of  a  Col- 
onel North " 

"  Oh,"  interrupted  the  other,  coolly,  and  before 
Tom  was  aware  of  his  intention,  he  had  stepped  to 
the  door,  locked  it,  and  dropped  the  key  in  his 
pocket;  "  that  was  what  you  were  thinking,  eh  ? 
And  suppose,  for  the  sake  of  argument,  I  prove  to 
be  the  gentleman  you  mention — what  are  you  going  to 
do  about  it  ?" 

Throwing  aside  all  attempts  at  disguise,  the  col- 
onel had  seated  himself  and  relighted  his  cigar.  He 
was  regarding  the  young  fellow  before  him  with  a 
look  of  rather  malicious  triumph. 

"Sit  down,  Tom,"  said  the  colonel,  blandly;  and 
Tom,  still  rather  bewildered,  obeyed. 

"  To  be  frank,  which  I  seldom  claim  to  be,  Tom," 
the  colonel  went  on,  daintily  flicking  the  ashes  from 
his  cigar,  "  I  never  dreamed  that  you  were  the  mem- 
ber of  my  advertising  troupe  who— er — so  distin- 


178  THAT  TREASURE. 

guished  himself  today,  or  I  need  hardly  say  I  should 
not  have  had  you  called  in,  though  I  flatter  myself 
my  disguise  is  perfect.  I  prefer  as  far  as  possible 
to  avoid  disagreeable  and  unnecessary  explanations 
to  a  sharp  eyed  young  fellow  like  yourself.  Not," 
he  added,  with  a  smile,  "  that  I  fear  anything  you 
might  say  about  little  eccentricities  of  mine " 

"  Such  as  abducting  a  child  from  its  mother,  or 
passing  off  a  fictitious  grandson  upon  an  old  man, 
and  making  him  a  tool  to  serve  your  own  ends,  for 
example,"  interrupted  Tom,  impetuously. 

"  Ah,  so  you  have  met  my  worthy  friend,  Captain 
Greyson,"  blandly  remarked  the  unabashed  colonel, 
regarding  Tom  through  a  fragrant  cloud  wreath; 
"so  much  the  better,  as  it  paves  the  way  to  some- 
thing I  have  to  say.  My  Tom  told  me  of  the  curious 
discovery  he  had  made  as  to  your  identity,  and  upon 
my  word  I  could  hardly  believe  it;  it  was  too  much 
like  the  unexpected  turning  up  of  the  missing  heir, 
you  know.  And  I  suppose  that  you  showed  the 
proofs  of  your  story  to  Captain  Greyson,  and  are 
now  elevated  to  your  rightful  position,  eh  ?" 

"  The  proofs  were  taken  from  me  by  train  robbers, 
headed  by  a  man  about  your  size,  carrying  a  double 
barreled  gun  exactly  like  the  one  you  had  at  the 
Vendome,  Colonel  North,"  replied  Tom,  looking 
squarely  in  the  face  of  his  interlocutor. 

"  Sorry  to  hear  it,"  was  the  unmoved  reply.  "  Go 
on,  Tom." 

"  Captain  Greyson — my  grandfather,"  the  young 
fellow  continued,  rather  bitterly,  "  was  good  enough 
to  accept  my  statements  as  to  my  relationship  with- 
out demanding  further  proof  than  what  I  had  to  tell 
him.  But  when  he  proposed  giving  me  my  proper 
place  as  his  grandson  and  heir,  yet  in  the  same 
breath  told  me  that,  if  I  so  do,  my  mother,  who,  as  I 
now  know,  is  living,  must  be  forever  dead  to  me;  and 


THAT  TEEASUEE.  179 

when  he  refused  to  give  me  the  slightest  clew  to  her 
whereabouts,  I " 

"  You  kicked,  eh  ?"  said  the  colonel.  Tom,  remem- 
bering to  whom  he  was  thus  expressing  himself,  had 
stopped  suddenly. 

"TJm,"  exclaimed  Colonel  North,  thoughtfully, 
after  a  slight  pause,  "  and  so  you  resign  the — er — 
flesh  pots  of  Egypt,  for  the  sake  of  your  mother, 
whom  you've  never  seen,  and  probably — or  perhaps — 
never  will.  That,"  continued  the  colonel,  inquiring- 
ly, "  explains  your  masquerading  in  the  livery  of  the 
Grand  Consolidated  at  two  dollars  a  day — thrown 
on  your  own  resources,  are  you  ?" 

It  was  impossible  to  resist  the  easy  good  nature 
of  the  man,  bad  and  evil  as  Tom  knew  him  to  be. 

"Yes,"  returned  Tom,  with  a  sigh  and  a  down- 
ward glance  at  his  shabby  clothing,  "I've  been  in 
rather  hard  luck  since  grandfather  Greyson  turned 
the  cold  shoulder  on  me." 

But  Colonel  North  did  not  seem  to  hear  Tom's  last 
remark.  His  crafty  brain  was  at  work  planning 
how  to  avert  any  possibility  of  an  exposure  on  the 

Eart  of  this  young  fellow.     For  Tom,  ;if  he  but  knew 
is  power,  could  make  some  damaging  statements, 
which   might    be    used   to   his   decided    disadvan- 
tage. 

As  therefore  he  made  no  response  to  Tom's  ad- 
mission of  ill  success,  the  latter  glanced  carelessly 
at  the  columns  of  the  evening  paper  on  the  table  be- 
side him,  which  was  carefully  folded  at  a  certain 
paragraph.  On  closer  inspection  this  proved  to  be 
the  item  concerning  Tom's  "  gallant  exploit,"  for  so 
it  was  headel.  After  a  glowing  account  of  the 
affair,  Tom  read  as  follows: 

The  lady  rescued  from  such  imminent  peril,  through  the 
bravery  or  the  employee  of  the  Grand  Consolidated  Mining 
Company,  which  is  meeting  with  a  success  unparalleled  in  the 


180  THAT  TEEASUEE. 

history  of  San  Francisco  stock  enterprises,  proves  to  have  been 
Madame  Norman,  the  once  celebrated  public  singer.  It  may 
be  remembered  that  she  met  with  a  somewhat  unfavorable  re- 
ception from  our  city  audiences,  and  returns  to  the  East  very 
soon.  Madame  Norman  has  a  voice  which  still  retains  its 
sweetness  and  flexibility,  but  in  departing  from  the  established 
usages  of  the  concert  stage  we  fear  the  singer  has  made, a  great 
mistake.  That  is,  in  undertaking  to  substitute  for  a  more  cul- 
tured musical  repertoire  a  programme  consisting  almost  entirely 
of  the  simple  old  fashioned  ballads,  etc.,  etc. 

Tom  read  thus  far,  when  Colonel  North's  voice  in- 
terrupted him. 

"  Tom,"  he  said,  somewhat  abruptly,  "  though 
Captain  Greyson  would  give  you  no  clew  to  your 
mother's  whereabouts,  has  it  occurred  to  you  that 
possibly  /  might  be  able  to  do  so  ?" 

Tom  started  to  his  feet  in  an  instant, 

"  You,  sir?"  he  exclaimed,  half  incredulously,  and 
then,  remembering  the  colonel's  complicity  in  his 
own  abduction,  it  suddenly  came  to  him  that  the 
colonel  might — accidentally  or  otherwise — be  speak- 
ing the  truth.  He  eagerly  listened  to  what  Colonel 
North  had  to  say. 

And  perhaps  in  all  the  great  city  of  San  Francisco 
there  was  no  lighter  heart  than  that  which  was  beat- 
ing under  Tom  Greyson's  threadbare  coat,  when, 
after  a  prolonged  interview  with  the  President  of 
the  Grand  Consolidated,  he  ran  lightly  down  the 
marble  steps  into  the  crowded  thoroughfare. 

For,  in  the  first  place,  he  had  gained  an  undoubted 
clew  to  the  whereabouts  of  his  mother.  Some  time 
after  recovering  from  the  brain  fever  occasioned  by 
the  shock  of  her  loss,  she  had  removed  to  Massachu- 
setts, where  her  late  husband  had  owned  a  house,  in 
a  town  close  to  Boston,  so  Colonel  North  said. 

Snugly  stowed  away  in  Tom's  substitute  for  a 
pocket  book  was  a  through  ticket  for  the  far  away 
city  of  Boston,  and  a  handsome  sum  in  cash,  pre- 
sented to  him  by  the  generous — or  prudent — coloneL 


THAT  TKEASUEE.  181 


CHAPTEK  XXIL 

ON    THE   EAST   BOUND   TRAIN. 

TOM  GBEYSON  began  his  eastward  journey  with  a 
heart  full  of  pleasing  anticipations  and  hopeful  ex- 
pectancy. He  found  the  section  allotted  him  by 
his  sleeper  ticket  in  the  Pullman  car  of  the  long- 
train,  which,  on  the  morning  following  the  events  of 
the  previous  chapter,  was  being  made  up  in  the 
great  depot. 

Having  seated  himself  next  the  wide  plate  glass 
window,  he  disposed  his  traveling  bag  at  his  feet, 
and  began  watching  the  different  passengers  as  they 
entered  the  luxurious  car,  which  was  to  be  their 
abiding  place  for  the  following  few  days. 

There  were  millionaires  and  their  wives,  wealthy 
ranchers  and  distinguished  travelers,  adventurers 
and  actors,  a  lecturer  or  two,  and  the  invariable 
newly  married  couple  on  their  marriage  tour;  but 
these  had  only  a  passing  degree  of  interest  for 
Tom. 

His  own  seatmate  proved  to  be  a  smiling  olive 
hued  young  Japanese  nobleman,  making  a  tour  of 
the  States,  under  the  guardianship  of  Lis  tutor,  a 
grave  looking  Oxford  graduate,  who  sat  opposite. 

Tom's  attention  was  diverted  by  the  entrance  of  a 
lady,  whose  escort,  as  he  saw  with  a  little  start  of 
surprise,  was  the  foreign  looking  gentleman  who 
had  given  him  the  card  of  Madame  Norman,  on  the 
previous  day.  This  lady  was  the  singer  herself. 


182  THAT  TREASURE. 

She  seated  herself  quietly  in  the  compartment  op- 
posite the  one  where  Tom  was  sitting,  and  began 
gazing  abstractedly  from  the  window. 

Her  attendant  disposed  her  traveling  bag,  books, 
cloak,  and  one  or  two  packages,  conveniently  to 
hand,  after  which,  with  a  low  bow,  he  betook  him- 
self into  another  car.  With  a  curious  degree  of  in- 
terest, for  which  he  could  hardly  account,  Tom  re- 
garded Madame  Norman's  face  attentively. 

The  fine,  calm,  and  still  handsome  features,  the 
dark  and  abundant  hair,  threaded  here  and  there 
with  gray,  the  deep,  luminous  eyes — where  had  he 
seen  Madame  Norman  in  his  lifetime  ? 

But  it  was  useless  to  try  to  recall  either  time  or 
place,  and  as  he  was  wondering  whether  the  lady 
would  recognize  in  himself  the  gayly  dressed  Mexi- 
can ranchero  of  the  day  before,  the  last  "  all  aboard  " 
of  the  conductor  from  without  was  followed  by  the 
slow  movement  of  the  train. 

Day  after  day  the  long  train  sped  eastward — now 
zigzagging  its  way  along  the  sides  of  rocky  steeps, 
crossing  dizzy  chasms  and  passing  through  deep 
defiles,  or  across  barren  plains  and  fertile  valleys. 

Tom  amused  himself  by  reading,  and  dreaming 
bright  dreams  of  the  future,  in  which  the  mother 
he  was  hoping  to  meet,  I  need  hardly  say,  was  the 
prominent  feature. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon." 

Tom  was  returning  from  the  dining  car  to  his  seat 
on  the  fourth  day  of  his  journey,  when  the  low,  sweet 
voice  of  Madame  Norman,  evidently  addressed  to 
himself,  arrested  his  attention. 

"Will  you  sit  down  here  a  moment?"  pursued  the 
singer,  with  a  quiet  frankness,  which  somehow  put 
Tom  quite  at  his  ease.  Tom  respectfully  seated 
himself  opposite  the  lady,  and  wondered  what  was 
coming. 


THAT  TEEASUEE.  183 

"  I  remember  faces  very  well,  as  a  general  thing," 
Madame  Norman  continued,  earnestly  regarding  the 
manly  young  fellow  before  her,  "but  for  some  little 
time  I  could  not  recall  where  I  had  Been  you,  till 
just  at  this  moment  it  came  to  me  that  you  were  my 
rescuer  a  few  days  since — is  it  not  so  ?" 

"  It  was  not  very  much  to  do,"  replied  Tom,  try- 
ing to  laugh  off  his  slight  embarrassment,  yet  with 
a  feeling  of  inward  pleasure  at  the  recognition. 

"  It  was  a  very  brave  and  skillful  act,"  warmly  re- 
turned the  lady;  "and  I  am  glad  that  I  have  the 
opportunity  of  thanking  you  most  heartily,  Mr. 
Dean.  One  of  your  mounted  companions  told  your 
name  to  my  old  music  teacher,  Monsieur  Pierre, 
who  travels  with  me  as  accompanist  at  my  con- 
certs." 

It  was  hardly  worth  while  for  Tom  to  explain  that 
he  had  given  his  old  name  to  the  manager  of  the  lit- 
tle equestrian  troupe,  so  he  allowed  the  error  to  re- 
main uncorrected,  and  very  briefly  explained  how 
he  happened  to  be  masquerading  in  such  a  guise — 
without,  of  course,  going  into  unnecessary  detail. 

Evidently  pleased  with  the  frank  manliness  of 
Tom's  speech  and  manner,  the  singer  drew  him  into 
further  conversation.  By  inquiring  as  to  the  way 
he  learned  to  throw  the  lasso,  she  led  him  to  speak 
of  his  previous  life  on  the  plains,  in  which  Madame 
Norman  seemed  greatly  interested. 

Tom  was  modestly  replying  to  her  questions,  when 
M.  Pierre  entered  the  car,  and  greeted  him  effusively. 
"  Unjeune  brave  it  is,  madam,"  said  M.  Pierre,  beam- 
ing at  Tom  over  his  spectacles,  "  and  while  I,  who 
should  have  pr-r-reserved  you  from  the  monstaire 
animal,  did  act  the  lache — the  cow-ard,  the  br-r-rave 
youth  fly  himself  to  your  rescue  !" 

M.  Pierre  then  settled  himself  comfortably  in  the 
corner  as  a  fixture. 


184  THAT  TREASURE. 

Madame  Norman,  noticing  that  Tom  spoke  guard- 
edly concerning  his  own  personal  history,  delicately 
refrained  from  questioning  him,  though  it  was  quite 
evident  that  her  curiosity  was  somewhat  aroused  on 
the  subject. 

She  talked  quite  freely  of  her  professional  tour; 
but  like  Tom  himself,  she  told  nothing  of  her  per- 
sonal history. 

The  days,  like  the  cars,  rolled  on,  and  the  passen- 
gers began  to  disperse. 

At  New  York  the  young  Japanese  noble  and  his 
tutor  said  good  by.  Madame  Norman  and  Monsieur 
Pierre  took  their  departure  at  New  Haven,  where 
they  were  billed  for  a  concert. 

"  We  may  never  see  each  other  again,"  said  the 
singer,  bending  her  dark  and  still  lustrous  eyes  on 
Tom's  face,  as  he  rose  respectfully  for  the  final  fare- 
well, "  but  I  shall  not  forget  your  kindness  and 
courtesy.  Would  that  I  had  such  a  son  to  be  the 
stay  of  my  declining  years — adieu."  And  with  a 
kindly  smile,  the  singer,  accompanied  by  M.  Pierre, 
took  her  departure. 

There  were  now  only  strangers,  Tom  thought,  in 
the  car.  He  was  sitting  well  forward,  where  he 
caught  an  occasional  glimpse  of  the  occupants  of 
the  two  seats  immediately  behind  him,  in  the  narrow 
strip  of  mirror  before  him. 

And  all  at  once  he  was  conscious  of  receiving  a 
mocking  glance  from  the  dark  eyes  of  a  fashionably 
attired  young  man  in  one  of  the  rear  seats. 

"  If  it  wasn't  for  the  mustache,  I  could  almost 
swear  that  was  the  colonel's  Tom,  as  I  saw  him  when 
he  first  left  the  train  at  Holcomb!"  mentally  ex- 
claimed Tom,  with  considerable  excitement.  "If 
I  could  hear  him  speak,  that  would  settle  it."  And 
acting  on  the  impulse  of  the  moment,  he  rose  and 
stepped  back  a  little. 


THAT  TREASURE  185 

"I — I — "beg  your  pardon,"  he  stammered,  as  the 
young  man,  without  betraying  the  slightest  symp- 
toms of  recognition,  lifted  his  eyes  inquiringly,  "  but 
are  you  not— that  is — I  took  you  for " 

Slightly  elevating  his  dark  eyebrows,  the  individ- 
ual thus  addressed  checked  Tom's  embarrassed  ut- 
terance by  raising  the  tip  of  his  gloved  finger  first 
to  his  lips  and  then  his  ear,  shaking  his  head  slowly 
as  he  did  so. 

"  He's  a  deaf  mute,  I  guess,"  volunteered  an  old 
lady  who  sat  in  the  same  seat.  "  I've  be'n  a-askin' 
of  him  questions  ever  sence  I  come  aboard,  but  can't 
git  a  word  out  of  him.  It's  a  dretful  misfortun'  for 
sech  a  nice  lookin'  young  feller  as  he  is." 

Was  it  fancy,  or  did  the  merest  shadowy  sem- 
blance of  a  smile  flash  over  the  well  dressed  passen- 
ger's features  at  this  juncture  ? 

The  long  railway  journey  was  now  nearly  at  an 
end.  The  day  drew  to  its  close,  and  as  the  length- 
ening shadows  began  to  fall  across  the  Berkshire 
hills,  the  long  train  entered  the  outskirts  of  the 
Hub.  Amid  a  clangor  of  engine  bells,  it  slowed 
down  and  stopped  in  the  Fitchburg  station,  as  the 
brakeman  flung  open  the  door,  and  announced  in  a 
stentorian  voice,  "Boston!" 

Scarcely  waiting  to  swallow  a  hasty  meal  at  the 
lunch  counter,  Tom  obtained  the  necessary  direc- 
tions, and  proceeded  at  once  to  Mapletown — a  few 
minutes'  ride  by  rail  from  Boston.  At  the  station 
he  was  directed  to  the  street  and  number  given  him 
by  Colonel  North. 

Making  his  way  hurriedly  through  the  main 
thoroughfare,  Tom  quickly  found  himself  in  Clifton 
Avenue,  at  the  corner  of  which  stood  an  unpretend- 
ing two  story  house,  known,  so  the  station  agent 
said,  as  "  the  Grey  son  place." 

Tom's  heart  thumped  furiously  against  his  ribs, 


186  THAT  TKEASUKE. 

as,  having  pulled  the  bell,  he  stood  waiting  for  some 
one  to  answer  it.  The  door  was  suddenly  opened  by 
a  tall,  gray  haired  woman,  with  a  severe  aspect,  and 
a  very  red  nose,  and  his  hopes  fell.  This  was  never 
the  mother  of  his  dreams. 

"  Does  Mrs.  Thomas  Greyson  live  here  ?"  he  asked, 
in  faltering  accents. 

"  Land  of  c'mpassion — no,"  snapped  the  woman, 
raising  the  hand  lamp  she  was  holding  for  a  better 
view  of  the  speaker;  "  there's  no  sech  person  in  this 
neighborhood,  that  I  know  of." 

"  Ask  if  she  was  a  kind  of  stage  singer  ?"  called  a 
masculine  voice  from  the  open  door  of  an  adjoining 
room;  "for  'pears  to  me  the  name's  kinder  fa- 
miliar." 

"  I  think  she  was,"  returned  Tom,  hesitatingly. 

"  Same  woman  I'm  thinkin  of,  then,"  responded 
the  voice.  "I  remember  now  about  it;  the  lawyer 
that  had  the  mor'gage  on  her  place  here  foreclosed, 
and  she  went  off  somewhere,  and  died  in  some  kind 
of  a  'sylum  out  West,  some  five  or  six  years  ago." 

"  Thank  you — good  night,"  said  Tom,  faintly,  and, 
swallowing  a  great  sob,  he  hurried  back  to  the 
station,  where  he  took  the  first  train  to  Boston,  feel- 
ing lonely  and  sick  at  heart. 

The  next  morning  he  sat  near  one  of  the  long 
windows  of  the  reading  room  at  Parker's,  in  the 
depths  of  dejection  and  disappointment. 

Only  one  effort  more  remained  to  be  made,  and 
this  more  as  a  matter  of  duty  than  from  any  ex- 
pected results. 

"  I  don't  care  so  much  about  the  money,  but  I 
should  like  to  know  something  about  Mr.  Sherard 
and  Miss  Dolly,"  he  told  himself.  And  sitting  at 
the  writing  desk,  Tom  drew  up  the  following  notice : 

If  this  notice  should  reach  the  eyes  of  Mr.  Hartley  Sherard  or 
his  daughter  Dolores,  who  left  Arizona  at  some  time  during 


THAT  TREASURE.  •  187 

the  present  year,  will  they  communicate  at  once  with  the  un- 
dersigned ?    Address : 

T.  G.,  Boom  309,  Parker  House,  Boston. 

Tom  had  little  hope  that  this  would  aid  him. 

His  principal  mission  had  utterly  failed,  and  all 
that  remained  to  do  was  to  return  to  San  Francisco 
and  try  to  effect  a  reconciliation  with  his  grandfa- 
ther. Writing  briefly  to  this  effect  to  Captain  Grey- 
eon,  Tom  posted  the  letter,  and  took  his  advertise- 
ment to  tbe  Globe  office. 

Three  or  four  days  passed  without  incident. 

Indeed,  Tom  had  fully  decided  that  henceforth 
his  life  was  destined  to  move  on  in  the  ordinary 
groove  of  every  day  mortals. 

His  only  acquaintances  were  the  managers  of  the 
periodical  counter,  with  whom  he  chatted  occasion- 
ally, as  he  bought  his  papers  from  day  to  day. 
These  gentlemen,  always  courteous  and  well  in- 
formed on  all  points  of  interest,  seemed  to  know  by 
sight  all  the  "notables  "  who  were  in  the  habit  of 
frequenting  the  room,  whether  guests  or  habitues. 

"  See  that  young  chap  with  the  diamond  solitaire 
and  swell  velvet  smoking  coat,  coming  1  his  way?" 
observed  one  of  them  in  a  confidential  undertone,  as 
Tom  leaned  idly  against  the  news  stand.  "They  say 
he's  a  daisy  for  spending  the  dollars,"  continued  the 
pleasant  faced  speaker,  as  Tom,  with  a  great  start  of 
surprise,  recognized  in  the  individual  thus  designa- 
ted no  other  than  the  young  deaf  mute  of  the  rail- 
road train.  "  His  name  is  Caton,  from  New  Orleans, 
with  a  big  pile  of  money.  He  booked  here  last 
night,  engaged  the  best  single  room  in  the  new  An- 
nex, and " 

Here  the  speaker  stopped  abruptly,  as  the  gilt 
edged  youth,  who  did  not  notice  Tom,  stepped  to 
the  counter. 

"  Morning  papers,  please,"  he  said,  and  Tom  drew 
a  long  breath. 


188  THAT  TREASURE. 

"  I  knew  I  wasn't-  mistaken.  His  voice  gives  him 
away,"  he  muttered  in  considerable  bewilderment. 

Young  Caton  took  his  papers  to  a  seat  near  the 
window,  and  after  a  moment's  hesitation  Tom  fol- 
lowed, and  dropped  into  the  nearest  chair. 

"Have  you  got  back  your  hearing  as  well  as  your 
voice,  Saxton?"  he  dryly  asked;  and  the  other  dupli- 
cated Tom's  previous  start  of  surprise,  while  he 
changed  color  visibly  as  he  encountered  Tom's 
gaze. 

"  Confound  it,  Dean,  or  Greyson,  whichever  I'm  to 
call  you,"  he  exclaimed,  irritably,  "  pray  what  is 
your  object  in  dogging  me  round  in  tins  manner?" 

"I  hardly  know  what  you  mean,"  was  Tom's 
quiet  reply,  "  unless  you  refer  to  our  meeting  on 
the  train,  when  I  was  uncertain  whether  it  was  you 
or  not.  And  as  for  the  rest,"  he  continued,  "  I've 
been  stopping  here  for  the  past  four  or  five  days, 
and  as  you  only  arrived  last  night,  you  can  hardly 
accuse  ma  of  dogging  you." 

There  was  something  in  Tom's  voice  and  manner 
which  carried  the  evidence  of  his  truthfulness,  even 
to  his  hearer,  who,  being  untruthful  and  deceitful 
himself,  was  accustomed  to  regard  the  world  in  gen- 
eral as  similarly  afflicted. 

Caton,  as  I  shall  have  to  call  him,  looked  cau- 
tiously at  Tom  for  a  moment,  and  then  his  counten- 
ance cleared. 

"All  right,  old  chap,"  he  said,  resuming  his  usual 
easy  address.  "I'm  glad  to  see  you,  though  I  don't 
mind  saying  that  I'd  nearly  as  soon  have  met  the 
old  man  Greyson  himself  as  you  on  the  train  coming 
East.  That's  why  I  bluffed  you  as  I  did."  And  the 
speaker  chuckled  gleefully  at  the  recollection  of  his 
ruse. 

"  But  why  ?"  wonderingly  asked  Tom. 

"  Well,"  was   the  half  laughing  reply,  "  a  fellow 


THAT  TREASURE.  189 

hates  tremendously  to  run  across  anybody  who  might 
call  his  past  crookedness  to  mind — that  was  one  rea- 
son." 

Tom  only  started  at  this  very  unexpected  admis- 
sion, and  \\ondered  what  on  earth  was  coming. 

"  Then  you  hadn't  heard  of  my  streak  of  luck,  eh, 
Tom  ?"  he  said,  with  a  sharp  glance  at  his  compan- 
ion, "  or  that  I'd  cut  the  whole  concern — North  and 
all  the  rest  of  it  ?" 

"I  haven't  heard  a  word  about  you  personally 
since  I  said  good  by  to  you  in  Holcomb,"  was  the 
quiet  reply,  "though  I  have  thought  about  you 
more  than  once,  and  wondered  how  you  enjoyed  the 
'  free  wild  life  of  the  plains '  which  you  were  antici- 
pating." 

"  Ah,"  said  the  other,  slowly.  "  Look  here,  Tom, 
I'm  not  fool  enough  to  try  to  pull  the  wool  over 
your  eyes,  especially  when  I  know  that  you  heard 
old  man  Greyson's  story,  eh  ?" 

Here  he  paused  interrogatively,  while  Tom  nodded. 
Looking  a  trifle  disconcerted,  the  colonel's  Tom 
continued: 

"  Very  well,  I  don't  deny  that  I've  been  a  bad  lot, 
a  very  bad  lot,  but  what  could  be  expected  of  a 
foundling,  brought  up  without  any  good  influences 
to  keep  him  straight,  and  all  the  while  under  the 
thumb  of  a  man  like  North  ?  But  we  won't  speak  of 
that.  To  make  a  long  story  short,  after  I  left  you  I 
joined  a  party  of  prospectors,  bound  for  the  Great 
Northwestern  Divide.  We  made  the  richest  find  of 
the  season;  and  when  I  came  back  to  'Frisco  I  sold 
out  my  interest  to  capitalists,  who  bought  the  terri- 
tory, staked  it  out,  and  formed  the  Grand  Consoli- 
dated  " 

"N.  M.  &  A.  A.  Mining  Company,  with  Senor 
Gomez,  alias  Colonel  North,  for  President,"  inter- 
rupted Tom. 


190  THAT  TKEASURE. 

"  So  you  know  all  about  it,  said  Caton,  with  an 
uneasy  glance  at  his  companion. 

"I  know  nothing  whatever  about  the  company  or 
its  •workings,  excepting  that  the  colonel  is  itu  presi- 
dent, and  the  fact  that  Major  Smith — if  such  is  his 
real  name — is  in  some  way  connected  with  it,"  care- 
lessly replied  Tom.  Then  he  briefly  explained  his 
recognition  of  the  colonel,  at  which  Caton  drew  a 
sigh  of  evident  relief. 

"  Smith  is — was — secretary  of  the  company,"  he 
said,  rather  awkwardly;  "but  to  go  on  with  my 
story.  The  colonel,  of  course,  hung  on  for  me  to 
stay  by,  but  I  had  made  up  niy  mind  that  if  I  ever 
was  going  to  turn  round  and  cut  the  concern,  that 
was  the  time  So  I  kept  my  counsel — and  my  money, 
which  was  close  to  ten  thousand  dollars,  and  slip- 
ped off  without  letting  any  one  know  where  I  was 
going — and  here  I  am,  Mr.  Tom  Caton,  of  New  Or- 
leans, very  much  at  your  service.  I  came  East  be- 
cause I  wanted  to  see  something  of  the  country,  and 
I'm  glad  I  did,  for  I've  fallen  in  with  some  nice 
people,  and  I'm  getting  interested  in  a  pretty  girl, 
whose  father  has  no  end  of  money.  She  and  her  fa- 
ther have  given  me  an  invitation  to  go  yachting 
with  them  in  a  vessel  that  belongs  to  the  young 
lady's  uncle,"  he  added,  with  an  air  of  triumph. 

"  You  haven't  told  me  yet,  what  brought  you  to 
Boston,"  continued  Caton,  eying  Tom,  curiously. 

Without  going  into  lengthy  detail,  Tom  briefly 
spoke  of  his  errand  and  the  sad  disappointment  he 
had  met.  Young  Caton  expressed  no  particular  sur- 
prise; and  only  a  few  polite  regrets. 

"  Then  I  suppose  you  go  back  to  San  Francisco  at 
once,"  he  said,  inquiringly. 

Tom  hesitated. 

"  I  was  fortunate  enough  to  be  of  some  service  to 
a  gentleman  and  his  daughter  who  belonged  origin- 


THAT  TBEASUEE.  191 

ally  in  New  York,  while  I  was  in  Arizona,"  he  finally 
explained,  with  a  little  awkwardness,  "  and,  as  I 
would  like  to  see  them  again,  for  certain  private 
reasons,  I  shall  stay  two  or  three  days  longer,  hop- 
ing to  get  an  answer  to  this  advertisement." 

And  Tom  extended  a  copy  of  the  Globe,  indicating 
the  notice  with  his  finger. 

"  A  lady  in  your  case,  too,"  laughed  Caton. 

Then  he  stopped  abruptly,  as,  with  the  journal 
held  in  such  a  way  that  it  hid  his  face,  he  glanced 
at  the  designated  paragraph. 

"If  that  is  all  that  keeps  you  here,"  he  said  at 
length,  speaking  in  a  curiously  constrained  voice, 
"  you  can  start  tomorrow;  for  you'll  never  hear  from 
thai  advertisement." 

"What  do  your  mean?"  wonderingly  asked  Tom. 

"  Simply  this,"  replied  Caton,  dropping  the  paper 
and  speaking  with  easy  assurance.  "I  remember 
very  well  that  some  time  last  spring  this  same  Mr. 
Hartley  Sherard,  and  pretty  Dolly,  his  daughter, 
were  in  'Frisco  and  called  on  old  man  Greyson.  Mr. 
Sherard  said  he  had  made  a  small  fortune  in  Ariz- 
ona— he  did  not  explain  how — and  had  decided  to 
buy  a  coffee  plantation  in  some  part  of  South 
America.  "VVe  went  down  to  see  them  off  the  day 
they  sailed,  and  that  was  the  last  known  of  them,  as 
the  steamer  was  never  heard  from,  and  is  supposed 
to  have  gone  down  with  all  on  board." 

Now,  if  Mr.  Caton  had  stopped  here,  things  might 
have  taken  a  very  different  turn. 

But  one  of  his  weaknesses  was  a  fondness  for 
boasting  of  his  success  with  the  fair  sex,  and  he 
went  on,  while  Tom  was  almost  stunned  by  the  un- 
expected news,  which  he  had  no  earthly  reason  for 
doubting, 

"  Dolly  and  I  had  got  well  acquainted,  while  she 
was  there,  and  the  truth  is,  I  rather  flatter  my 


192  THAT  TREASURE. 

self  I  made  a  very  strong  impression  upon  her  sus- 
ceptible heart ! " 

Tom's  color  rose,  and  with  it  the  Greyson  temper 
at  these  boastful  words,  and  the  insolent  look  which 
accompanied  them. 

"You!"  he  scornfully  ejaculated,  forgetful  of  self 
restraint  and  courtesy  alike.  And  he  had  no  need 
to  add  aloud  his  meaning,  "you,  the  impostor,  liar, 
and  thief !  "  for  Caton  read  it  all  too  plainly  in  his 
voice  and  manner. 

All  the  inherent  and  acquired  evil  in  the  young 
man's  nature  seemed  for  one  brief  moment  to  be 
shadowed  on  his  features,  and  he  retorted  hotly. 

Then  followed  a  general  uprising  as  a  handsomely 
dressed  young  man  sprang  to  his  feet,  with  the  im- 
print of  four  muscular  fingers  across  his  pale  face. 

Uttering  a  fierce  imprecation,  he  made  a  spring 
at  Tom;  but  the  heavy  weight  head  porter  promptly 
bore  down  upon  him. 

"Aisy,  now,  misther,"  he  remarked,  in  persua- 
sively Hibernian  accents,  as,  pinning  Caton's  arms 
to  his  side,  he  held  him  in  the  grasp  of  a  vise;  "this 
ain't  no  place  for  sich  doin's — a  gintleman  like  you, 
too!" 

"All  right,  porter;  I  forgot  myself  for  a  moment," 
said  the  young  man,  controlling  himself  with  a 
mighty  effort,  as  a  small  crowd  of  guests  began 
(gathering  about  the  little  group. 

"And  so  did  I.  I  heartily  apologize  for  such  a 
show  of  temper,"  impulsively  exclaimed  Tom.  As 
he  spoke  he  extended  his  hand,  but  Caton  cast  one 
look  of  supreme  hatred  at  his  late  companion,  and 
hastily  left  the  room. 

Greatly  ashamed  at  the  ebullition  of  temper  which, 
as  he  was  painfully  aware,  had  made  him  the  focus 
of  a  number  of  pairs  of  eyes,  Torn  dropped  into  his 
chair  again. 


THAT  TREASURE.  1C3 

"  I  fancy  you've  made  a  dangerous  enemy,  young 
man,"  said  the  smooth,  even  voice  of  a  plainly 
dressed,  middle  aged  gentleman,  with  rather  inex- 
pressive, smooth  shaven  features,  who  was  sitting  in 
the  chair  vacated  by  Caton.  "He  is  an  acquaintance 
of  yours  ?"  inquiringly  continued  the  speaker,  with 
seeming  carelessness,  as  Tom  only  nodded  in 
reply. 

"  I  have  met  him  before,"  answered  Tom,  dis- 
tantly. 

"  Urn,"  was  the  dubious  response.  Then,  drawing 
from  a  side  pocket  some  business  cards,  he  handed 
one  to  Tom.  "  It  is  always  well  to  be  prepared  for 
emergencies,"  he  said,  gravely,  "  and  this  company 
which  I  represent,  the  Risk  and  Accident  Insurance 
Company,  provides  against  loss  to  your  family  by 
shooting." 

"  But  I  have  no  family,  Mr. — er — Blake,"  returned 
Tom,  glancing  at  the  name  at  the  bottom  of  the 
card,  and  laughing,  in  spite  of  himself,  at  the 
speaker's  business-like  tone. 

Unlike  most  insurance  men,  Mr.  Blake  did  not 
pursue  his  favorite  topic,  but  drifted  off  into  gener- 
alities. Little  by  little,  yet  seemingly  without  in- 
tent, he  tried  to  lead  the  talk  back  to  the  incident 
of  a  few  moments  previous;  but  Tom,  seeing  his 
drift,  was  very  guarded  in  his  replies. 

Finally  Mr.  Blake  took  his  departure,  and  Tom 
took  up  a  paper  which  had  been  left  in  one  of  the 
chairs,  and  began  to  glance  over  it,  though  the 
image  of  Caton  seemed  scampering  up  and  down 
the  columns. 

Suddenly  his  eye  caught  the  headline  of  one  of 
the  abbreviated  dispatches,  dated  San  Francisco, 
and  he  uttered  a  low  whistle  of  astonishment. 


THAT  TREASURE. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

A   TRAP   FOB    TOM    GREYSON. 

THE  paragraph  which  caused  Tom  Greyson's  as- 
tonishment read  as  follows  : 

The  absconding  secretary  of  the  Grand  Consolidated  N.  M. 
&  A.  A.  Mining  Company  is  now  presumed  to  have  made 
good  his  escape,  with  nearly  $10,000  of  the  company's  funds,  in 
one  of  the  Pacific  coast  steamers.  President  Gomez  has  sub- 
mitted a  sworn  statement  showing  that  the  company's  pecu- 
niary standing  is  not  affected  in  the  slightest  degree  by  the 
defalcation.  A  dividend  has  just  been  declared  which  delights 
the  stockholders.  Unless  the  matter  is  taken  up  by  outside 
parties,  it  is  understood  that  President  Gomez  will  oner  no  re- 
ward for  the  apprehension  of  the  fugitive. 

"  Well,  Major  Smith  has  feathered  his  nest,  for  a 
fact,"  thought  Tom. 

Meanwhile  Caton,  having  changed  his  apparel 
for  a  handsome  walking  suit,  had  started  out  and 
walked  rapidly  along  Washington  Street  in  the  di- 
rection of  the  West  End.  His  cheek  still  tingled 
from  the  effects  of  Tom's  blow,  and  his  thoughts 
were  fiercely  vindictive. 

"  I  must  quiet  myself  down  with  a  pipe — lucky 
old  Lin  met  me  in  the  street  and  gave  me  his  card, 
for  I  shouldn't  like  to  go  into  a  strange  '  joint,' " 
he  said,  half  aloud,  glancing  at  a  pasteboard  he  had 
drawn  from  his  vest  pocket,  on  which,  under  some 
Cninese  characters,  was  printed  : 

HOP  LIN,  CHINESE  LAUNDRY, 
1000  HARRISON  AVENUE. 

Caton  turned  into  Harrison  Avenue  from  Tremont 


THAT  TBEASUEE.  195 

Street,  without  paying  much  heed  to  what  was  going 
on  about  him. 

"  No.  1000  "  was  on  a  corner  and  evidently  one  of 
the  better  class  of  laundries.  Everything  was  neat 
and  orderly  in  the  room  which  Caton  entered  from 
the  street. 

Producing  his  card  he  pointed  to  the  Chinese 
characters  at  the  top .  One  of  the  Chinamen  grinned 
vacantly,  and  nodded  in  the  direction  of  a  door  at 
the  back.  Passing  through  this,  the  new  comer 
found  himself  in  a  tolerably  large,  well  furnished 
room,  the  atmosphere  of  which  was  redolent  with 
the  fumes  of  some  peculiar  drug. 

It  was  an  opium  joint.  Along  the  side  was  a  row 
of  canvas  cots,  only  two  of  which  were  occupied; 
one  by  a  Chinaman,  the  other  by  a  thick  set,  burly 
man  in  his  shirt  sleeves,  who  was  puffing  laboriously 
at  his  own  pipe,  which  had  not  apparently  produced 
much  effect. 

Lin,  the  proprietor,  a  sinister  looking  Celestial, 
welcomed  Caton  with  a  slight  twitching  of  the 
muscles  of  one  eye,  which  might  be  construed  into 
a  wink,  and  motioned  him  to  one  of  the  couches. 

Like  most  who  begin  the  fearful  habit  of  opium 
smoking,  Caton  had  "  hit  the  pipe  "  for  the  first 
time  simply  for  the  novelty  of  it ;  but  now  its  ter- 
rible hold  was  becoming  firmly  fastened  upon  him. 
On  this  particular  occasion,  for  some  reason  or 
other,  he  could  not  forget  himself  in  the  delirious 
stupor  peculiar  to  the  soul  and  body  destroying 
narcotic. 

He  tossed  and  turned  on  the  couch,  after  the  pipe 
had  fallen  from  his  hands,  and  finally  began  talking 
aloud  in  a  voice  of  fierce  energy. 

The  occupant  of  the  other  couch,  who  evidently 
was  trying  the  use  of  the  drug  for  the  first  time  with 
unsatisfactory  results,  raised  himself  on  his  elbow. 


196  THAT  TREASURE. 

Erecting  himself  to  a  sitting  position  on  the  edge 
of  the  cot,  he  began  listening,  carelessly  at  first, 
then  with  evident  eagerness,  to  the  words  which 
fell  from  the  lips  of  the  half  delirious  sleeper.  Then, 
paying  for  his  pipe,  he  went  out. 

An  hour  later,  Tom  Caton  was  roused  from  his 
stupor  by  Lin. 

"  You  sleepee  on  long  'nough  for  one  dol' — noder 
man  want  hittee  pipe,"  he  said,  without  the  slight- 
est pretense  of  a  show  of  courtesy;  aud  Caton 
pulled  himself  together,  drew  on  his  coat,  and  made 
his  way  out. 

Leaning  against  the  side  of  the  building,  with 
folded  arms,  stood  a  powerfully  built  man  with  a 
most  villainous  cast  of  features,  whose  natural  ugli- 
ness was  heightened  by  a  stubby  growth  of  reddish 
gray  beard,  unkempt  hair  of  the  same  hue,  a  scarred 
face  and  broken  nose. 

Tom  glanced  curiously  at  him,  and  was  stepping 
past,  when,  greatly  to  his  surprise,  the  man  touched 
his  arm. 

"  I'll  walk  along  of  you  a  bit,"  he  said,  with  a 
somewhat  sinister  smile ;  "  I  want  a  bit  of  a  yarn 
with  you,  Mr.  Caton." 

"Pray  who  are  you?  and  how  do  you  know  my 
name?"  sharply  demanded  Caton,  made  doubly  irrit- 
able by  the  headache  and  nausea  which  had  followed 
his  opium  indulgence. 

"Well,  I'm  Cap'n  Bill  Smith  of  the  schooner 
Bess,"  was  the  cool  reply,  "  an'  whilst  you  was  talk- 
in*  in  yer  sleep  on  the  cot  next  to  mine  down  in  that 
air  den,  you  give  away  yer  name — an'  c'nsiderable 
more  besides,  if  I'm  any  jedge  of  what  embezzlin' 
some  one  else's  money  means." 

With  all  his  self  command,  Tom  Caton  could  not 
repress  a  slight  start  of  dismay.  But  quickly  re- 
covering, he  laughed  scornfully. 


THAT  TEEASUKE.  197 

"  You'll  have  hard  work  to  make  out  a  case  of 
embezzlement  from  what  a  man  says  under  the  in- 
fluence of  an  opium  pipe,"  he  returned,  with  affected 
carelessness. 

"  That  ain't  to  the  point,  exuc'ly,"  replied  Captain 
Smith;  "  I  ain't  in  that  kind  of  bizness,  but  mebbe  I 
ana  in  a  line  of  bizness  where,  if  I  was  paid  enough, 
I  might  get  that  young  feller  outer  the  way  for 
you." 

"  How  do  you  know  I  want  any  one  put  out  of  the 
way?"  asked  Caton,  with  a  different  intonation  of 
voice. 

"Men  is  mighty  ap'  to  speak  out  their  real  minds 
sometimes  whilst  they're  asleep,"  Captain  Smith  re- 
plied, with  a  grin;  "  an*  when  I  heard  you  sayin' 
that  you'd  give  five  hundred  dollars  to  hev  a  chap — 
Greys'n  you  called  him — knifed  or  flung  overboard, 
you  didn't  care  which,  why  I  jest  drawed  my  own 
c'nclusions." 

"  Suppose,  captain,"  said  Caton,  blandly,  "  that 
you  and  I  have  something  to  drink  to  our  better 
acquaintance." 

Shortly  afterwards  the  two  were  seated  at  one  of 
the  little  tables  in  a  neighboring  saloon. 

Putting  their  heads  together,  both  literally  and 
figuratively,  the  plotters  talked  long  and  earnestly 
in  an  undertone,  punctuated  by  occasional  drinks 
consumed  by  the  bibulous  captain,  on  whom  his 
frequent  potations  produced  no  visible  effect. 

"Very  good,"  said  the  latter,  finally,  as  he  rose  to 
his  feet,  after  having  listened  to  a  certain  proposal 
advanced  by  his  younger  companion  ;  "  you  'tend  to 
your  part  of  it,  an'  you  kin  jest  make  sure  that  I'll 
tend  to  mine;  an'  'member,  I  don't  ask  no  pay  till 
the  feller  is  fairly  under  hatches." 

And  Captain  Smith,  plunging  his  huge  hands  into 
the  pocket  of  his  pilot  cloth  coat,  rolled  heavily 


198  THAT  TREASUKE. 

away  in  the  direction  of  Atlantic  Avenue,  while 
young  Caton,  after  a  few  moments'  reflection, 
stepped  into  a  small  stationer's  shop  near  at  hand. 
Having  bought  a  sheet  of  the  cheapest  note  paper 
and  an  envelope,  he  asked  permission  to  write  a 
letter,  which,  of  course,  was  readily  granted. 

Tom  Grreyson,  after  strolling  aimlessly  about  the 
streets  during  the  day,  had  suddenly  made  up  his 
mind  that  he  was  only  wasting  time  and  money  by 
lingering  in  Boston,  now  that  the  two  objects  of  his 
visit  had  proved  purposeless,  and  his  cherished 
hopes  were  at  an  end. 

So,  after  supper,  Tom  settled  his  bill  at  Parker's, 
and  decided  to  take  the  fast  night  express  to 
Chicago,  which  left  at  10  P.  M.  After  a  short  rest  in 
the  latter  city  he  meant  to  proceed  direct  to  San 
Francisco. 

He  had  his  traveling  bag  brought  down  from  his 
room.  Taking  the  evening  paper  to  a  chair  under 
the  reading  chandelier,  he  began  looking  it  over. 

Curiously  enough,  Mr.  Blake,  the  insurance  man, 
was  there,  and  from  his  manner  Tom  received  a 
vague  impression  that  he  had  been  expecting  to  see 
him.  He  welcomed  Tom's  entrance  by  a  nod  and 
a  friendly  smile,  after  which  he  drew  a  chair  beside 
him  with  the  familiarity  of  an  old  acquaintance. 

"  Anything  new  in  the  papers  tonight  ?"  he 
asked,  as  Tom  uttered  a  slight  exclamation  at 
something  which  had  caught  his  eye  in  the  news 
column. 

"  Nothing  much,"  replied  Tom,  who  went  on  read- 
ing: "The  embezzling  secretary  has  been  traced  to 
Chicago,  and  descriptive  circulars  have  been  sent 
out,  now  that  he  is  known  to  be  still  in  the  States, 
instead,  as  was  first  reported,  of  having  effected  his 
escape  in  one  of  the  Pacific  coast  steamers." 

Tom  finished  and  looked  suddenly  up  to  find  Mr. 


THAT  TREASURE.  199 

Blake  very  coolly  glancing  at  the  same  paragraph 
over  his  shoulder. 

"Curious,"  remarked  the  latter,  unabashed  by 
Tom's  look  of  annoyance  :  "  but  today  I  happened 
to  run  across  one  of  those  very  descriptive  circulars 
mentioned  in  the  paper  there — just  listen." 

And,  greatly  to  Tom's  astonishment,  Mr.  Blake 
unfolded  the  document  between  his  fingers,  from 
which  in  a  mumbling  undertone  he  read: 

"FIVE  THOUSAND  DOLLARS'  REWARD. 

"The  above  sum  will  be  paid  for  the  apprehension  of  the 
absconding  secretary  of  the  G.  C.  N.  M.  and  A.  A.  M.  Co.  of  San 
Francisco.  The  following  is  his  description:  Age  between  18 
and  19,  height  about  5  ft.  8,  weight  145.  Good  looking,  dark 
eyes  and  hair  slightly  inclined  to  curl,  gentlemanly  address 
and  regular  features.  Wears  small  black  false  mustache, 
and " 

"  But,"  suddenly  interrupted  Tom,  who  had  been 
listening  with  the  utmost  amazement,  "  that's  all 
wrong — Major  Smith  is  a  heavily  built  man  \\ith — " 

"  I  don't  know  any  Major  Smith,"  rather  curtly 
interposed  Mr.  Blake;  "the  fellow  described  here 
has  gone  by  the  name  of  Tom  Caton  and  one  or  two 
other  aliases." 

Like  thunder  out  of  a  clear  sky,  a  sudden  realiza- 
tion of  the  truth  flashed  across  Tom's  mind.  For  a 
moment  he  sat  staring,  open  eyed,  at  Mr.  Blake, 
who,  having  accomplished  his  purpose,  regarded 
him  with  a  somewhat  humorous  smile,  and  placed 
the  refolded  paper  in  his  pocket. 

"At first,"  he  said,  dropping  his  voice,  "I  was  in 
doubt  which  of  you  two  young  fellows  to  look  after, 
but  I  know  my  man  now.  I  suppose  you  can't  tell 
me  where  he  is,  this  evening  ?" 

"  I  can't — and  if  I  could  I  wouldn't,"  bluntly  re- 
turned Tom. 

"  Precisely,"  was  the  bland  response.  "  My  object 
in  opening  your  eyes  as  I  have,"  added  Mr.  Blake,  in 


200  THAT  TREASUKE. 

a  graver  tone,  "  is  simply  that  you  may  be  on  your 
guard  against  further  association  with  a  criminal, 
who  will  probably  be  arrested  before  morning  ;"  and 
rising,  the  detective,  for  such  he  was,  strolled  out 
into  the  office,  leaving  Tom  in  a  state  of  intense  ex- 
citement. 

"  Letter  for  you,  sir — chap  that  brought  it  didn't 
wait  for  no  answer,"  said  one  of  the  bell  boys,  enter- 
ing the  room. 

"In  answer  to  my  advertisement;  what  can  it 
mean?"  muttered  Tom,  noticing  the  address  written 
in  a  scrawly  hand:  "  T.  GL,  Room  309,  Parker  house." 

Tearing  it  hastily  open,  Tom  read  as  follows: 

ON  BOED  SCOONER   AT 
PECK'S  WHARF. 

Seeing  your  notis  in  the  paper  I  rite  these  few  lines  by  a  ship- 
mait  to  say  if  your  first  Name  is  Tom  who  was  in  arizony  with 
mr  Sherard  i  can  tel  you  something  about  him  that  you  may 
like  to  no  having  jest  cum  from  a  south  america  voyige  where 
i  see  mr  sherard  at  the  consinee's  ofis  and  he  sent  a  mesige  to 
the  states  that  i  gess  is  for  you  by  yore  notis  tho  he  said  Tom 
Dean,  i  am  sick  in  my  bunk  "with  roomatiz.  come  tonite 
thursday  about  nine  as  the  vesel  sales  erly  tomorrer  mornin. 
she  lays  to  the  end  of  the  peer,  pecks  wharf,  a  white  scooner 
with  a  lantern  hangin  in  the  fore  rigin. 

JOHN  PERRY  abel  seem  an. 

Not  a  shadow  of  doubt  as  to  the  genuineness  of  the 
letter  crossed  Tom's  mind,  as  he  finished  the  epistle, 
and  placed  it  in  his  pocket. 

Glancing  at  the  clock,  he  saw  it  was  half  past 
eight.  Only  the  day  before  Tom  had  enjoyed 
a  stroll  along  the  wharves,  and  knew  very  nearly 
where  to  find  the  designated  pier. 

"  I  can  have  my  interview  with  John  Perry,  and 
then  take  a  herdic  straight  to  the  station,  without 
coming  back  bere  to  the  hotel  at  all,"  he  thought. 
Recovering  his  traveling  bag  from  the  coat  room, 
Tom  gave  friendly  Mr.  Shea,  at  the  news  counter,  a 
cordial  good  by,  and  passing  Mr.  Blake,  who  did  not 
look  up,  he  ran  down  the  steps  into  the  street. 


THAT  TEEASUEE.  201 

The  clock  in  the  Old  South  steeple  struck  nine  as 
Tom  reached  the  pier,  on  either  side  of  which  were 
several  schooners. 

Guided  by  the  dull  glimmer  of  the  lantern  hang- 
ing in  the  vessel's  rigging,  Tom  made  his  way 
through  the  darkness  to  the  very  end  of  the  pier, 
where  lay  the  vessel  mentioned  in  the  letter. 

The  tide  was  running  out,  and  the  schooner's 
deck  was  several  feet  below  the  level  of  the  pier. 
Tom,  still  retaining  his  traveling  bag  in  one  hand, 
swung  himself  into  the  rigging,  and  descended  to 
the  sheerpole. 

"  Is  there  a  sailor  named  Perry — John  Perry,  who 
is  sick  with  rheumatism  on  board  this  vessel  ?"  Tom 
called  to  a  man  who  was  walking  along  the  deck. 

"  Yes — if  you're  the  chap  he's  expectin'  you'll  find 
him  down  the  fore  peak  in  his  bunk,"  gruffly  re- 
turned the  person  addressed. 

Clambering  down  to  the  deck,  Tom  stumbled  for- 
ward. Rightly  conjecturing  that  the  small  open 
hatchway  near  the  windlass,  from  which  issued  a 
gleam  of  light  from  below,  led  to  the  fore  peak,  Tom 
dropped  his  traveling  bag  to  the  unseen  floor  be- 
neath, and  then  began  climbing  down  a  clumsy  lad- 
der. 

But  scarcely  had  his  feet  reached  the  bottom, 
when  the  companion  way  slide  over  his  heard  was 
pushed  suddenly  to,  and  he  heard  a  faint  "  click,"  as 
though  a  key  was  turned  in  a  padlock. 

"  Mr.  Perry !"  called  Tom,  in  considerable  alarm, 
as  he  turned  toward  the  bunks  on  either  side  of  the 
dingy  hole,  which  was  faintly  illumined  by  a  smoky 
swinging  lamp — "  what  does  this  mean  ?  Some  has 
fastened  the  slide  overhead !" 

But  there  was  no  reply.  As  his  eyes  became  ac- 
customed to  the  dim  obscurity,  he  saw  that  the 
bunks,  save  for  two  or  three  dirty  gray  blankets  and 


202  THAT  TREASURE. 

dingy  pillows,  were  all  empty.  And  then  for  ihe  first 
time  came  the  terrifying  thought  that  he  had  been 
decoyed  on  board  for  the  purpose  of  robbery — pos- 
sibly murder. 

Sitting  down  on  one  of  the  lockers  in  the  dirty 
place,  Tom  tried  to  conjure  up  some  way  of  escape, 
but  all  in  vain.  He  was  fairly  trapped  and  at  the 
mercy  of  his  captors. 

Hour  after  hour  dragged  slowly  by.  An  occa- 
sional sound  of  heavy  footsteps  on  the  deck,  and 
the  murmur  of  voices,  sometimes  reached  his  ear, 
and  then  all  would  be  still.  The  close  atmosphere 
made  his  head  feel  dull  and  heavy,  and  finally,  ar- 
ranging the  blankets  in  one  of  the  bunks,  Tom 
threw  himself  down  upon  them  with  a  groan  of  de- 
spair. 

The  tramping  of  feet  directly  over  his  head,  min- 
gled with  the  rattle  of  masthoops  and  the  slatting 
of  canvas,  aroused  Tom  from  his  drowsiness. 

"They  are  getting  under  way  from  the  pier,"  was 
his  thought.  Springing  from  the  bunk,  Tom  stood 
on  the  ladder  and  beat  frantically  against  the  under 
side  of  the  scuttle,  but  all  in  vain. 

He  heard  the  plash  of  lines  let  go  on  the  pier, 
and  felt  the  gentle  swing  of  the  hull  as  it  moved 
away.  Then  a  slight  heeling  over  was  followed  by 
the  noise  of  the  ripple  under  the  bows. 

Throwing  himself  again  in  the  bunk,  in  an  agony 
of  mind  hardly  to  be  expressed  in  words,  Tom  lay 
there  hour  after  hour.  The  increased  motion  of  the 
vessel  told  him  it  must  be  well  down  the  harbor, 
while  an  unpleasant  nausea  foretold  approaching  sea 
sickness. 

All  at  once  the  slide  was  pulled  back,  but  no  sum- 
mons on  deck  followed.  After  waiting  a  moment, 
poor  Tom  clambered  upon  the  ladder  and  emerged 
from  his  prison. 


THAT  TREASURE.  203 

A  groan  escaped  his  lips  as  lie  glanced  around 
him.  A  thick  drizzling  rain  was  falling,  and  the 
land  on  either  hand  was  hidden  by  gray  fog  wreaths. 
Under  all-  sail  the  forty  ton  schooner  was  dashing 
over  a  short  chop  sea,  with  a  strong  northerly  wind 
distending  her  canvas. 


204  1HAT  TBEASUBS. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

TOM     FINDS     FKIENDS. 

WHEN  Tom  came  upon  the  schooner's  deck  half  a 
dozen  rough  looking  men  in  oilskins  and  heavy  sea 
boots  were  gathered  aft,  while  a  poorly  clad  young 
fellow  about  Tom's  age,  apparently  an  Italian,  was 
scrubbing  the  deck. 

"  Hallo,  who's  this  ?"  called  out  a  burly  man,  with 
bloated  features,  who,  as  Tom  felt  instinctively,  was 
the  captain. 

"  A  stowaway,"  suggested  another,  and  as  a  hoarse 
laugh  followed,  the  commander,  no  other  than  Cap- 
tain Smith,  came  rolling  forward. 

"  So,  young  feller,  you  thought  to  smuggle  yerself 
off  to  sea  in  my  vessel's  fore  peak,  did  you?"  he 
roared;  "  an'  a  nice  mess  you've  got  yerself  into  by 
doin*  of  it,  f er  my  schooner  ain't  no  deep  water  craft. 
She's  jest  an  eyesterman  bound  fer  Delaware  capes, 
so  now,  my  hearty,  you  kin  make  the  best  of  it  an* 
turn  to  lively,  for  I'm  boss  here — d'ye  understan'  ?" 

"  I  understand  that  I've  been  trapped  into  coming 
aboard  either  by  you  or  some  one  else,"  returned 
Tom,  firmly,  "  and  if  there's  law  in  America " 

"  Shet  up!"  roared  Captain  Smith;  "none  of  yer 
back  talk  here !" 

And  before  poor  Tom  knew  what  was  coming,  he 
caught  a  right  hander  from  Captain  Smith's  huge 
fist,  which  sent  him  reeling  against  the  windlass. 


THAT  TEEASUM^  205 


The  Greyson  temper  blazed  out.  With  a  cry  of 
rage,  Tom  snatched  a  short  capstan  bar  from  the 
deck,  and  in  another  moment  Captain  Smith  was 
laid  prostrate. 

Tom  hardly  knew  what  he  was  doing.  He  recalls 
striking  out  madly  right  and  left,  till  a  terrible  blov/ 
from  behind  rendered  him  insensible. 

He  woke  to  renewed  consciousness  to  find  himself 
lying  in  one  of  the  fore  peak  bunks,  having  on  only 
his  underclc  thing.  The  rest  of  his  garments  were 
nowhere  to  be  seen,  but  lying  on  one  of  the  lockers 
were  a  ragged  woolen  shirt,  the  sleeves  of  which 
were  torn  off  at  the  elbows,  a  pair  of  patched  trous- 
ers, and  an  old  Scotch  cap. 

"  You,  Beppo,"  he  heard  Captain  Smith  roar,  "  git 
down  for'ard,  an'  if  that  there  Tom  has  come  to,  tell 
him  to  put  on  them  duds  on  the  locker,  an'  git  on 
deck  mighty  sudden,  d'ye  hear  ?" 

"Aye,  aye,  sir!"  and  the  Italian  came  tumbling 
rapidly  down  the  ladder. 

"Better  do  what  them  says  —  dey  awful  bad  mans,'* 
whispered  Beppo,  as  Tom,  seeing  there  was  no  help 
for  him,  climbed  painfully  from  the  berth,  and  began 
to  don  the  dingy  apparel.  Then  both  went  on  deck- 

"  Go  to  work  and  kile  up  them  halyards  !"  shouted 
Captain  Smith,  whose  head  was  bandaged  with  t»- 
very  dirty  handkerchief. 

"  Show  him  how  to  coil  'em,  Beppo,"  growled  an- 
other villainous  looking  fellow,  a  Pennsylvania 
Dutchman  called  Hawes,  who  acted  as  a  sort  of 
officer. 

Resistance  was  useless.  It  was  plain  enough  to 
poor  Tom  that  at  the  faintest  show  of  disobedience 
he  was  liable  to  be  battered  and  bruised  at  the  will 
of  his  captors,  who  only  perhaps  waited  a  sufficient 
pretext  for  putting  him  out  of  the  way  altogether, 
now  they  had  possession  of  his  money. 


206  THAT  TREASURE. 

Beppo  kindled  a  fire  in  the  rusty  stove  in  one 
corner  of  the  fore  peak,  after  he  had  silently  given 
Tom  his  first  lesson  at  seamanship;  while  the  rest  of 
the  crew,  with  the  exception  of  the  man  at  the 
wheel,  went  down  into  the  little  cabin  aft. 

"Keep  her  well  to  the  east'ard  of  tLe  cape — looks 
like  we  waa  goin'  to  hev  a  change  of  wind,  an'  I  want 
a  good  offiu'  'fore  nightfall,"  bawled  the  captain  up 
the  after  companion  way. 

The  rest  of  that  day  and  night,  Tom  was  merci- 
fully left  to  himself  in  all  the  agonies  of  seasickness; 
and  on  the  following  morning,  somewhat  revived  by 
some  hot  coffee  prepared  by  Beppo,  he  managed  to 
get  on  deck  again. 

That  evening  the  schooner  lay  almost  totally  be- 
calmed a  few  miles  east  of  Block  Island,  while  grad- 
ually the  soft  fog  wreaths,  drifting  in  from  the  south 
and  east,  veiled  the  face  of  the  deep. 

In  vain  Captain  Smith  stamped  and  whistled  and 
swore;  his  vessel  lay  idly  rocking  on  the  long  swells 
without  steerage  way.  In  the  distance,  Block  Island 
light  was  barely  discernible,  and  the  hoarse  whistle 
of  the  automatic  buoy  on  Cow  Reef  sounded 
strangely  through  the  stillness. 

The  wheel  spoke  was  put  in  a  becket;  a  jug  of 
applejack  was  brought  out  from  the  captain's  priv- 
ate locker,  and  placed  on  the  cabin  table,  together 
with  a  pack  of  greasy  cards,  and  a  jar  of  fine  cut 
tobacco.  All  hands  gathered  about  the  festive 
board,  leaving  Tom  and  Beppo  on  deck,  with  direc- 
tions to  blow  an  immense  tin  fog  horn  at  intervals. 

Tom  stole  softly  aft  and  reconnoitered.  Unlike 
most  vessels,  there  was  no  after  companion  way 
door  through  which  to  descend  to  the  cabin,  but 
situply  a  slide  with  hasp  and  staple,  like  that  over 
the  entrance  to  the  fore  peak. 

"  Easy  as  slipping  off  a  log,"  he  murmured,  and, 


THAT  TEEASUEE.  207 

for  the  first  time  since  his  capture,  Tom  laughed, 
but  very  softly.  Tobacco  smoke  and  the  fumes  of 
liquor  ascended,  both  through  the  open  hatchway, 
and  through  a  funnel  hole  in  the  middle  of  the  roof, 
immediately  beneath  which  swung  the  cabin  lamp. 

"  Do  you  want  to  get  away  from  here,  Beppo  ?" 
asked  Tom,  stepping  forward  to  the  Italian's  side, 
as  he  sat  on  the  heel  of  the  bowsprit,  and  blew  dis- 
cordant blasts  on  the  fog  horn. 

"  You  trya  me,"  whispered  Beppo,  showing  his 
white  teeth.  Tom  hastily  confided  his  plan,  and  the 
other  assented  readily. 

Tom  whittled  a  stout  thole  pin  to  the  required 
size,  and,  placing  it  in  his  pocket,  drew  a  bucket  of 
water  from  alongside,  which  he  placed  on  deck. 

The  hilarity  below  grew  louder  and  stronger,  as 
the  applejack  waned  in  the  jug. 

"  Take  a  look  round  on  deck,  an*  see  if  there's  any 
signs  of  a  breeze,  Hawes;  I'll  play  your  hand  till 
you  come  back,"  said  Captain  Smith.  Tom,  who 
had  just  tiptoed  away  from  t^e  after  cabin,  laughed 
again. 

For  Hawes,  presuming  the  slide  to  be  open,  as  a 
few  moments  before,  hurried  to  obey  without  glanc- 
ing upward.  And  as  his  bullet  head  came  forcibly 
in  contact  with  the  closed  slide,  which  was  of  toler- 
ably thick  oak,  he  uttered  a  howl  and  fell  backward. 

At  the  same  moment,  a  drenching  torrent  of  salt 
water  was  poured  down  through  the  funnel  hole  in 
the  roof,  instantly  extinguishing  the  lamp,  and 
drenching  the  table  beneath. 

The  jug  of  applejack  was  overthrown  in  the  sud- 
den uprisal,  and  then  followed  a  perfect  pandemon- 
ium. There  was  no  other  means  of  exit,  except 
through  the  scuttle,  and  even  the  little  plate  glass 
bull's  eyes  in  the  side  of  the  trunk  were  tightly 
closed  and  screwed  up. 


108  THAT  TKEASUEE. 

"  Now,  then,  Beppo,"  exultantly  exclaimed  Tom, 
"  give  me  a  hand  with  the  top  dory — quick !" 

In  another  moment  the  buoyant  craft  was  tossing1 
alongside.  As  its  stem  bumped  heavily  against  the 
vessel's  hull,  the  tremendous  din  in  the  cabin  sud- 
denly ceased. 

"  You,  Tom — Beppo  1"  bellowed  the  voice  of  the 
imprisoned  captain,  hoarse  with  rage  and  applejack, 
"  take  off  this  here  slide,  or  I'll  murder  you  when  I 
get  on  deck  !" 

"  You  won't  get  on  deck  in  a  hurry,  by  the  looks 
of  things,"  called  Tom,  glancing  at  the  stout  ash  pin 
which  confined  the  slide;  "hope  you're  enjoying 
yourself  down  there — good  by !" 

"  Bime  by  you  be  plenty  warm,  cap'n,"  shouted 
Beppo  ;  "  I  empty  kerosene  on  old  sail  down  blow, 
an'  set  him  'fire,  'fore  we  go  off  in  you  dory !" 

"  Good  heavens,  Beppo  !"  exclaimed  Tom,  aghast, 
"  you  haven't " 

Bat  a  reassuring  wink  from  the  Italian  showed 
Tom  that  Beppo  was  revenging  himself  for  the 
abuses  he  had  suffered,  by  working  on  the  fears  of 
his  former  persecutors,  at  the  expense  of  truth. 

"  I  shmell  the  smoke  a'ready,"  yelled  Hawes,  in 
terrified  accents;  "ve  shall  burn  like  rats  in  von 
hole !" 

Amid  a  chorus  of  frenzied  shouts  and  entreaties, 
the  dory  was  pushed  off  from  the  side  by  the  two 
fugitives.  Beppo  took  the  oars,  and  with  half  a 
dozen  strokes  left  the  schooner  astern,  completely 
hidden  by  the  thick  mist  wreaths. 

Sitting  in  the  dory's  stern,  Tom  steered  toward 
the  luminous  pin  point  representing  Block  Island 
light,  which  seemed  much  further  away  than  it 
fteally  was,  by  reason  of  the  fog. 

"  Saya,  Tom,"  Beppo  suddenly  remarked,  "how 
?*u  getta  caught  'board  dat  vessel— eh  ?" 


THAT  TREASUKE.  209 

Tom  briefly  explained. 

"  Captain  Smith,  or  some  one  of  his  gang,  wrote 
the  decoy  letter,  I  suppose,"  he  said,  "  and  so " 

"No,  no,"  interrupted  Beppo,  shaking  his  head 
rapidly;  "  I  tell  you  sometings.  Night  we  sail,  men 
all  'shore  'cept  Cap'n  Srnit'.  I  lay  bunk  aft,  'mos' 
sleep.  Bime  by,  Smit'  he  come  down  with  young 
fella  all  dress  up  like  gen'leman.  'So  my  letter 
f etcha  him  ?'  dis  young  chap  say,  an'  show  he  teeth. 
Den  cap'n  laugh,  an' say:  'Got  him  sure.'  Young 
fella  pull  out  money;  I  see  him  finger  shake  when 
he  hand  over  bill.  *  Member,  cap'n/  he  say,  low 
like,  'all  I  want  get  him  out  my  way  few  week — 
not'in'  more.'  Cap'n  Smit'  grin.  '  I  take  care  of 
him,'  he  say;  den  bot'  go  on  deck." 

"  Could  you  see  the  young  fellow's  face  ?"  eagerly 
demanded  Tom,  as  a  sudden  shadowy  suspicion 
flashed  across  his  mind. 

"  See  him  all  plain,"  promptly  returned  Beppo. 
"  I  know  him  'gain  anywheres.  He " 

"  Stop  rowing  a  bit,"  exclaimed  Tom,  quickly. 

Out  of  the  surrounding  mist  and  gloom  rose  a 
clear  and  beautiful  contralto  voice,  upborne  on  the 
light  breeze. 

"  Hark !  "  breathlessly  interposed  Tom,  as  Beppo 
was  about  to  speak. 

"  Where  is  my  wandering  boy  tonight, 

The  boy  of  my  tend'rest  care  ? 
The  boy  that  was  once  my  soul's  delight, 

The  child  of  my  love  and  prayer." 

It  was  only  a  melody  from  the  too  often  derided 
"  Gospel  Hymns."  But  the  wonderful  pathos  and 
sweetness  of  the  singer  gave  to  the  simple  words  a 
strangely  moving  power,  and  Tom  Greyson's  eyes 
suddenly  filled. 

"Pull  round,  Beppo;  there  is  a  vessel  somewhere 
near  in  the  fog,  and  we  must  board  her,"  said  Tom, 


210  THAT  TEEASUKE. 

in  a  voice  of  repressed  emotion,  for  somehow  his 
whole  being  had  been  strangely  stirred  by  what  he 
had  heard. 

Beppo  silently  obeyed.  A  few  strokes  of  the 
oars,  and  out  of  the  murk  loomed  the  hull  of  a 
large  schooner,  with  her  booms  guyed  out  to  catch 
the  fitful  puffs  of  air  that  barely  kept  the  white 
sails  full. 

"  Schooner  'hoy !"  called  Beppo,  as  he  rounded 
the  dory  to  alongside  the  moving  vessel.  In  answer 
to  the  hail,  two  or  three  men  came  running  to  the 
rail,  and  took  the  fugitives  on  deck. 

"  Show  the  poor  fellows  into  the  cabin,  Mr. 
Meyer,"  called  a  pleasant  voice  from  the  quarter, 
where  four  or  five  persons  were  sitting.  "  I  want  to 
question  them." 

Mr.  Meyer,  evidently  the  first  officer,  motioning 
Tom  and  Beppo  to  follow,  ushered  them  into  the 
after  cabin. 

The  pleasant  voiced  gentleman,  who,  as  Tom  con- 
jectured, was  the  owner  of  the  yacht,  descended  the 
after  companion  way,  followed  by  the  rustling 
skirts  of  a  couple  of  ladies,  who  entered  their  state- 
rooms. 

A  third  lady  was  sitting  at  a  small,  upright  piano 
in  an  alcove.  As  she  turned  her  head  at  the  en- 
trance of  the  little  party,  Tom  with  difficulty  re- 
pressed an  exclamation  of  astonishment,  for  it  was 
no  other  than  Madame  Norman.  It  was  not  sur- 
prising that  she  did  not  at  first  recognize  Tom  in 
his  disfiguring  apparel. 

"  Step  forward,  here,  more  into  the  light,"  said 
Mr.  Bivers,  the  yacht's  owner,  and  very  reluctantly 
Tom  followed  Beppo,  who  was  not  in  the  least 
abashed  by  his  surroundings,  but  stood,  cap  in 
hand,  glancing  about  him  with  childish  delight. 

Beppo  told  the   story  of  the  schooner  Bess  and 


THAT  TKEASUEE.  211 

her  villainous  crew.  How  he  himself  had  been  in- 
duced to  ship  through  the  promise  of  large  wages, 
and,  once  on  board,  had  been  kept  there  a  drudge 
and  a  slave. 

But  Madame  Norman  was  not  listening.  She  was 
studying  Tom's  face  with  a  puzzled  look. 

"I  cannot  be  mistaken,"  she  said  rising  to  her 
feet.  "  Mr.  Rivers,  this  young  man  is  the  one  of 
whom  I  was  telling  you — he  who  acted  so  bravely 
in  San  Francisco." 

"  Impossible,  Mrs.  Greyson,"  returned  Mr.  Rivers, 
as  the  lady  stepped  forward  and  took  Tom's  hand 
in  her  own. 

Mrs.  Greyson !  But  before  Tom  could  frame  the 
questions  that  were  trembling  on  his  lips,  the  singer 
drew  him  forward. 

"  Madame  Norman  was  only  my  stage  name  ; 
I  am  really  only  Mrs.  Greyson,"  she  said,  with  a 
smile. 

"  But  I — that  is — my  name  is  Tom  Greyson,"  ex- 
claimed Tom,  in  great  agitation;  "and  there  are  the 
initials,  T.  S.  G.,  that  my  father,  whom  I  cannot 
remember,  pricked  into  my  arm  when  I  was  a  child," 
he  added,  pointing  to  the  tattoed  monogram  on  his 
arm. 

"  Will  you  tell  me  more  ?"  gasped  Mrs.  Greyson, 
sinking  into  the  nearest  chair,  but  without  relin- 
quishing Tom's  hands,  while  her  eyes  were  fixed  on 
his  agitated  face  with  an  eager,  hungry  look. 

"Captain  Greyson,  my  grandfather,  was  angry  at 
his  son's  marriage,"  said  Tom; "  and  after  my  father 
died  he  had  me  kidnaped  by  a  man  named 
North " 

But  before  Tom  could  continue,  Mrs.  Greyson 
drew  him  toward  her. 

"  My  boy,"  she  said,  tremblingly,  "  my  little  lost 
Tom  1"  With  a  stifled  cry,  Tom  sank  on  his  knees 


212  THAT  TREASURE. 

and  hid  his  face  in  her  lap,  and  his  mother  placed 
her  arms  about  his  neck. 

"  Thank  God — thank  God !"  she  whispered,  "  for 
this  my  son  was  dead  and  is  alive  again,  was  lost 
and  is  found." 

A  slight  rustling  was  heard  at  the  further  end  of 
the  cabin,  where,  with  visibly  astonished  looks,  a 
young  and  a  middle  aged  lady  stood  as  though 
transfixed  at  the  unexpected  tableau. 

But  Mr.  Rivers,  recovering  from  his  own  shock 
of  surprise,  waved  them  back  with  a  mute  gesture. 
Then,  seizing  Beppo,  who  was  grinning  with  de- 
light, by  the  collar,  he  marched  him  rapidly  on 
deck. 

"It  beats  melodrama  and  novels  all  hollow,"  he 
exclaimed  to  the  two  gentlemen  who  stood  there ; 
"  wait  a  little  while,  and  I'll  take  you  in  to  hear  the 
whole  story." 

But  feminine  curiosity  was  not  thus  to  be  held 
in  check.  Long  before  the  three  masculines  ven- 
tured to  intrude  upon  the  scene,  such  a  chorus  of 
voices  was  heard,  that  Mr.  Rivers  was  fain  to  knock 
loudly  at  the  cabin  door. 

"  The  sailing  master  complains  that  you're  all 
making  such  a  row  he  can't  hear  the  automatic  buoy 
on  Cow  Reef,"  he  called. 

"  Come  in,"  was  the  reply,  and  Mr.  Rivers,  fol- 
lowed by  his  two  male  companions,  entered  the 
cabin. 

"Papa — papa  Sherard — what  do  you  think?" 
breathlessly  cried  a  lovely  girl  in  a  becoming  yacht- 
ing suit,  as  she  seized  one  of  the  gentlemen  by  the 
hand  and  dragged  him  forward;  "  here  is  Tom — our 
Tom — only  he  isn't  Tom  Dean,  but  Tom  Greyson, 
my  dear  Mrs.  Greyson's  long  lost  son !  And  oh, 
papa !"  said  Miss  Dolly  Sherard,  "  isn't  it  too  lovely 
for  anything?" 


THAT  TKEASUEE.  213 

"  "Well,  I  should  say  it  was,"  vacantly  responded 
Mr.  Sherard,  staring  at  Tom  in  utter  bewilderment; 
"  Tom,  my  boy " 

And,  dropping  Tom's  hand  before  he  had  quite 
wrung  it  off,  Mr.  Sherard  turned  suddenly  round 
and  stared  very  hard  at  the  barometer,  the  index 
needle  of  which  was  pointing  to  "sudden  change." 

"Here,  Caton,  come  and  be  introduced,"  called 
Mr.  Bivers,  to  make  a  diversion;  but  the  third  gen- 
tleman of  the  party  had  suddenly  vanished  through 
the  door,  with  a  face  that  was  livid  in  its  pallor. 

"  What's  the  matter  with  Caton  ?  I  didn't  know 
he  was  ever  troubled  with  bashfulness,"  laughed 
Mr.  Rivers. 

"  The  young  gentleman  has  seemed  rather  nerv- 
ous ever  since  his  impatience  to  leave  Boston  started 
us  all  off  a  couple  of  days  before  we  had  arranged 
to  go,"  said  Mr.  Sherard,  shrugging  his  shoulders; 
'*  otherwise,  we  might  have  had  a  longer  time  to 
enjoy  our  comfortable  suite  of  rooms  at  Parker's." 

At  Parker's !  Then  Mr.  Sherard  and  Dolly  had 
been  under  the  same  roof  as  Tom  !  No  wonder  that 
scheming  Caton  had  wanted  to  get  him  out  of  the 
way,  lest  he  should  meet  the  Sherards,  and  in  some 
way  betray  his  knowledge  of  Caton's  antecedents. 

Like  one  in  a  dream,  Tom  sat  holding  his  moth- 
er's hand,  while  Mrs.  Greyson,  speechless  with  joy, 
regarded  her  new  found  son  with  emotions  too  deep 
for  utterance. 

It  was  Dolly  who  did  the  talking.  She  told  of 
her  father's  accidental  meeting  with  the  wealthy 
young  planter  from  New  Orleans,  at  a  broker's  office 
in  Boston,  where  the  latter  was  exchanging  some 
gold  for  bills.  Being  pleased  with  his  appearance, 
Mr.  Sherard  had  invited  him  to  call  at  their  rooms 
at  Parker's,  and  he  had  haunted  them  ever  since. 
And  when  Mr.  Eivers,  who  was  a  brother  to  Mr. 


214  THAT  TREASURE. 

Sherard's  deceased  wife,  had  proposed  the  present 
yachting  trip,  which,  after  a  brief  touching  at  New 
York  on  some  of  Mr.  Sherard's  business,  was  to  con- 
tinue till  midsummer,  young  Mr.  Caton  had  con- 
trived very  shrewdly  to  have  himself  included  in  the 
invitation. 

It  was  evident  that  Tom  felt  ill  at  ease  in  his  rag- 
ged garb,  notwithstanding  his  delightful  sur- 
roundings, a  fact  which  Mr.  Sherard  was  first  to 
discover. 

"  Come,  Tom,  I  want  you  myself  for  a  few  mo- 
ments," he  said.  Comprehending  his  meaning,  Tom 
left  his  mother,  with  a  promise  that  he  would  soon 
return,  and  accompanied  Mr.  Sherard  to  his  own 
stateroom,  where  the  latter's  wardrobe  was  placed 
at  his  disposal. 

Half  an  hour  later,  Tom  passed  out  on  deck,  and 
tossed  over  the  rail  his  late  ragged  habiliments. 

"  Saya,  Tom,"  eagerly  observed  Beppo,  who  seemed 
to  have  been  lying  in  wait  for  him,  "  maybe  you  not 
b'leeve  me,  but  while  'go  I  seea  dat  young  fel'  what 
I  tell  you  was  'board  the  Bess,  an*  give  cap'n  money; 
him  was  on  deck  with  oder  gen'lemen." 

But  Tom  could  now  believe  anything,  and,  in  fact, 
Beppo's  assertion  only  confirmed  his  own  suspicions. 
Bidding  Beppo  say  nothing  about  it  to  any  one, 
Tom  penciled  on  a  card  these  few  lines: 

TOM:  As  I  know  everything— that  you  are  the  embezzling 
secretary  of  the  Grand  Consolidated,  and  that  you  forged  the 
letter  by  which  I  was  decoyed  on  board  the  oyster  schooner, 
from  which  I  have  just  escaped,  it  may  not  be  pleasant  for  us 
to  meet.  I  will  keep  your  secret  as  long  as  I  can,  but  you  must 
know  the  truth  will  have  to  be  told  sooner  or  later.  1  heartily 
and  freely  forgive  you  on  my  own  part.  TOM. 

Knocking  at  the  door  of  Caton's  stateroom,  he 
slipped  the  card  under  the  door,  and  made  his  way 
to  the  cabin,  which  was  tenanted  solely  by  pretty 
Dolly. 


THAT  TREASURE  215 

His  mother,  so  Dolly  told  him,  with  a  charming 
Bmile,  was  lying  down,  after  so  much  excitement, 
and  Mrs.  Rivers  was  with  her.  The  two  older  gen- 
tlemen were  on  the  quarter,  and  Mr.  Caton  had  sent 
word  that  he  had  a  headache  and  did  not  wish  to 
be  disturbed. 

"  But,  Dolly,"  said  Tom,  grown  wondrously  bold, 
as  he  took  both  her  small  hands  in  his  own,  "  do 
you  know  I  have  not  had  time  to  tell  you  that  not 
the  least  of  my  happiness  is  that  of  finding  you 
again  ?" 

And,  if  you  will  believe  me,  this  same  audacious 
Tom  drew  blushing  Dolly  toward  him,  and  touched 
his  lips  to  her  rosy  cheek. 

"What  Dolly  would  have  said,  but  for  the  entrance 
of  Mr.  Sherard,  I  am  unable  to  state.  But  she  be- 
gan talking  very  fast  all  at  once,  and  the  theme  of 
her  conversation  was  Tom's  mother.  Mrs.  Greyson 
had  been  unsuccessful  in  her  pet  project — in  fact, 
had  lost  nearly  all  her  little  savings.  Then  she  left 
the  concert  stage,  and  advertised  for  music  pupils. 
But  Dolly,  who  had  fallen  in  love  with  the  graceful 
lady  at  sight,  persuaded  her  father  that  she  wanted 
her  for  companion,  chaperone,  and  music  teacher,  all 
in  one. 

And  so  the  night  wore  on.  Mrs.  Greyson  and 
Mrs.  Rivers  rejoined  them,  and  shortly  afterward 
Mr.  Rivers  came  below,  with  the  announcement  that 
a  favorable  breeze  was  rising,  and  that  the  yacht 
would  be  in  New  York  harbor  on  the  following 
morning. 

Mr.  Sherard  had  a  long  talk  in  private  with  Tom, 
after  the  others  had  retired.  He  had  prospered  in 
a  wonderful  manner,  through  certain  investments, 
and  though  he  had  turned  Tom's  share  in  with  his 
own,  he  was  amply  able  to  repay  it  with  interest. 
It  was  arranged  that,  on  their  arrival  in  New  York, 


216  THAT  TKEASURE: 

Mr.  Sherard  should  at  once  proceed  to  make  the 
proper  transfers,  and  Tom  felt  that  he  was  in  a  fair 
way  of  seeing  his  cherished  dream  of  a  home,  and 
a  humble  competency,  in  which  his  mother  was  to 
share,  fully  realized. 

At  early  dawn,  every  one,  except  Caton,  turned 
out  to  enjoy  the  beautiful  scenery  in  sailing  up  the 
harbor.  A  little  later  the  steward  reported  that  Mr. 
Caton  was  not  iu  his  stateroom.  Not  only  were  his 
traveling  bag  and  overcoat  missing,  but  also  the 
dory  in  which  Tom  and  Beppo  had  made  their  es- 
cape. 

It  had  been  left  towing  alongside,  and  some  time 
during  the  night  had  been  utilized  by  the  missing 
passenger,  as  was  apparent  from  the  following  brief 
note,  left  on  the  untouched  berth: 

Circumstances  over  which  I  have  no  control  having  necessi- 
tated a  somewhat  hasty  leave  taking,  I  tender  my  heartfelt 
thanks  for  courtesies  received.  Mr.  Greyson,  who  I  will  merely 
say  is  a  white  man,  every  inch  of  him,  will  give  the  full  partic- 
ulars. Am  glad  he  found  his  mother— indeed,  he  might  give  me 
the  credit  of  that.  Love  to  Dolly.  CATON. 

"  But  what  does  it  all  mean  ?"  exclaimed  Dolly, 
coloring  with  vexation  at  the  concluding  passage  in 
this  impudent,  but  very  characteristic  missive  ;  and 
then  Tom  made  a  clean  breast  of  the  wnole  matter 
of  Caton's  career,  from  beginning  to  end. 

Space  does  not  allow  me  to  describe  at  any 
length  the  mingled  astonishment  and  indignation 
of  the  entire  party,  when  they  found  they  had  been 
sheltering  and  entertaining  an  audacious  young 
criminal. 

Arrived  in  New  York,  Tom's  first  act  was  to  send 
to  his  grandfather  the  following  dispatch : 

Can't  come  back.  Have  found  mother.  Will  write  particu- 
lars. TOM. 

And  that  night,  after  Tom  and  Mr.  Sherard  had 


THAT  TKEASTTKE.  217 

had  a  most   satisfactory  adjustment  o?  their  busi- 
ness matters,  Tom  received  the  following  answer: 

Come  at  once  and  bring  your  mother  with  you. 

GREYSON. 

The  tears  rose  to  Mrs.  Greyson's  eyes,  as  Tom, 
with  his  arms  about  her  neck,  read  this  altogether 
unexpected  reply. 

"  Ah,  Tom,  it  all  seems  too  good  to  be  true,  and  I 
am  continually  fearing  to  waken  and  find  it  all  a 
dream,"  she  softly  said. 

"  It  seems  real  enough  to  me,"  responded  irre- 
pressible Dolly,  pouting  never  so  slightly,  "  for  if 
you  go,  I  only  find  dear  friends  to  lose  them  again 
immediately." 

"It need  not  be,"  eagerly  exclaimed  Tom,  "if  Mr. 
Sherard  and  yourself  would  give  up  this  yachting 
cruise  and  take  the  trip  with  us." 

And  the  upshot  of  the  matter  was  that  Mr.  Eivers, 
greatly  to  his  disappointment,  had  to  hunt  up  an 
entire  new  yachting  company;  while  the  happiest 
quartet  that  ever  traveled  by  rail  went  flying  off 
for  San  Francisco  a  few  days  later. 

But  why  prolong  this  story  further?  At  Los 
Angeles,  in  Southern  California,  two  beautiful 
estates  stand  side  by  side.  One  belongs  to  Captain 
Greyson.  The  captain  daily  repents  in  figurative 
sackcloth  and  ashes  his  harshness  and  cruelty  to 
"  Tom's  widow,"  whom  he  now  regards  as  a  daugh- 
ter. 

Mr.  Sherard  owns  the  other  estate,  and  has 
settled  down,  so  he  asserts,  for  life.  Dolly  Sherard 
is  perfectly  content,  as  well  she  may  be.  Both  she 
and  Tom  look  back  upon  their  peculiar  experiences 
with  something  of  the  feeling  with  which  one  re- 
calls a  bewildering  dream.  . 

Perhaps  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  say  just  here, 
that  young  Caton  was  finally  apprehended  by  per- 


fc.8  THAT  TREASURE. 

sistent  detective  Blake.  He  now  serves  the  State  in 
a  massive  stone  building,  where  he  will  have  a 
chance  to  reflect  upon  the  result  of  wrong  doing 
for  the  next  ten  years. 

It  was  from  Tom  that  I  obtained  the  facts  which 
I  have  incorporated  into  this  story.  In  a  letter  re- 
cently received  from  him,  he  says: 

Dolly  and  I  are  to  be  married  some  day.  I  tell  you  this, 
thinking  that  you,  as  well  as  any  who  may  read  the  story 
which  you  say  you  have  written  about  us,  will  know  that  at 
last  I  have  found 

THAT  TEEASUBE. 

THE  END. 


THE  CREAM  OF  JUVENILE  FICTION 

BOYS'  OWN 
LIBRARY^ 

A  Selection  of  the  Best  Books  for  Boys  by  the 
Most  Popular  Authors 

^J^HE  titles  in  this  splendid  juvenile  series  have  been  selected 
\2r  with  care,  and  as  a  result  all  the  stories  can  be  relied 
upon  for  their  excellence.  They  are  bright  and  sparkling;  not 
over-burdened  with  lengthy  descriptions,  but  brimful  of  adven- 
ture from  the  first  page  to  the  last — in  fact  they  are  just  the 
kind  of  yarns  that  appeal  strongly  to  the  healthy  boy  who  is 
fond  of  thrilling  exploits  and  deeds  of  heroism.  Among  the 
authors  whose  names  are  included  in  the  Boys'  Own  Library 
are  Horatio  Alger,  Jr.,  Edward  S.  Ellis,  James  Otis,  Capt.  Ralph 
Bonehill,  Burt  L.  Standish,  Gilbert  Patten  and  Prank  H.  Con- 
verse. 


All  the  books  in  this  series  are  copyrighted,  printed  on  good 
paper,  large  type,  illustrated,  printed  wrappers,  handsome  cloth 
covers  stamped  in  inks  and  gold — fifteen  special  cover  designs. 

140  Titles — Price,  per  Volume,  75  cents 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price 
by  the  publisher, 

DAVID  McKAY, 

610  SO.  WASHINGTON  SQUARE,  PHILADELPHIA,  PA. 

(i) 


HORATIO    AIX.ICR,  Jr. 

One  of  the  best  known  and  most  popular  writers.     Good,  clean, 
healthy  stories  for  the  American  Boy. 

Adventures  of  a  Telegraph  Boy  Mark  Stanton 

Dean  Dunham  Ned  Newton 

Erie  Train  JBoy,  The  ]STew  York  Boy 

Five  Hundred  Dollar  Check  Tom  Brace 

From  Canal  Boy  to  President  Tom  Tracy 

From  Farm  Boy  to  Senator  "Walter  Griffith 
Young  Acrobat 

C.  B.  ASIILKY. 

One  of  the  best  stories  ever  written  on  hunting,  trapping  and  ad- 
venture in  the  West,  after  the  Ouster  Massacre. 

Gilbert,  the  Boy  Trapper 

A:NXH:  ASHMORE. 

A  splendid  story,  recording  the  adventures  of  a  boy  with  smugglers. 
Smuggler's  Cave,  The 


CAPX.  RALPH   BOXEZIIIJL. 

Capt.  Bonehill  is  in  the  very  front  rank  as  an  author  of  boys' 
stories.  He  writes  also  under  the  name  of  Stratemeyer  and  Winfield. 
These  are  two  of  his  best  works. 

K"eka,  the  Boy  Conjurer  Tour  of  the  Zero  Club 


WAI/TER   F.  BRUXS. 

An  excellent  story  of  adventure  in  the  celebrated  Sunk  Lands  of 
Missouri  and  Kansas. 

In  the  Bunk  Lands 


FRA1SFK  H.  CONVERSE. 

This  writer  has  es'ablished  a  splendid  reputation  as  a  boys'  author, 
and  although  his  books  usually  command  $1.25  per  volume,  we  offer 
the  following  at  a  more  popular  price. 

Gold  of  Flat  Top  Mountain  In  Southern  Seas 

Happy-Go-Lucky  Jack  Mystery  of  a  Diamond 

Heir  to  a  Million  That  Treasure 

In  Search  of  An  Unknown  Race  Voyage  to  the  Gold  Coast 

DAVID   McKAY,  Publisher,  Philadelphia. 

(ii) 


HARRY   COLLIXC;\VOOD. 

One  of  England's  most  successful  writers  of  stories  for  boys.  His 
best  story  is 

Pirate  Island 

GEORGE  II.  COOMER. 

Two  books  we  highly  recommend.  One  is  a  splendid  story  of  ad- 
venture at  sea,  when  American  ships  were  in  every  port  in  the  world, 
and  the  other  tells  of  adventures  while  the  first  railway  in  the  Andes 
Mountains  was  being  built. 

Boys  in  the  Forecastle  Old  Man  of  the  Mountain 


DAI/TON. 

Three  stories  by  one  of  the  very  greatest  writers  for  boys.  The 
stories  deal  with  boys'  adventures  in  India,  China  and  Abyssinia, 
These  books  are  strongly  recommended  for  boys'  reading,  as  they  con- 
tain a  large  amount  of  historical  information. 

Tiger  Prince  "War  Tiger 

"White  Elephant 

EDWARD   S.  ELLIS. 

These  books  are  considered  the  best  works  this  well-known  writer 
ever  produced.  No  better  reading  for  bright  young  Americans. 

Arthur  Helmuth  Perils  of  the  Jungle 

Check  No.  2134  On  the  Trail  of  Geronimo 

From  Tent  to  White  House  "White  Mustang 


GEORGE 

For  the  past  fifty  years  Mr.  Fenn  has  been  writing  books  for  boys 
and  popular  fiction.  His  hooks  are  justly  popular  throughout  the 
English-speaking  world.  We  publish  the  following  select  list  of  his 
boys'  books,  which  we  consider  the  best  he  ever  wrote. 

Commodore  Junk  Golden  Magnet 

Dingo  Boys  Grand  Chaco 

'Weathercock 

EXSKiX   CLARKE  FIXCH,  U.  S.  X. 

A  graduate  of  the  U.  S.  Naval  Academy  at  Annapolis,  and  tho- 
roughly familiar  with  all  naval  matters.  Mr.  Fitch  has  devoted  him- 
self to  literature,  and  has  written  a  series  of  books  for  boys  that  every 

DAVID  McKAY,  Publisher,  Philadelphia. 

(iii) 


young  American  should  read.    His  stories  are  full  of  very  interesting 
information  about  the  navy,  training  ships,  etc. 

Bound  for  Annapolis  Cruise  of  the  Training  Ship 

Clif,  the  Naval  Cadet  From  Port  to  Port 

Strange  Cruise,  A 

WILLIAM    MURRAY   CRAYDON. 

An  author  of  world-wide  popularity.  Mr.  Graydon  is  essentially  a 
friend  of  young  people,  and  we  offer  herewith  ten  of  his  best  works, 
wherein  he  relates  a  great  diversity  of  interesting  adventures  in  various 
parts  of  the  world,  combined  with  accurate  historical  data. 

Butcher  of  Cawnpore,  The  In  Barracks  and  Wigwam 

Camp  in  the  Snow,  The  In  Fort  and  Prison 

Campaigning  with  Braddock  Jungles  and  Traitors 

Cryptogram,  The  Hajah's  Fortress,  The 

From  Lake  to  "Wilderness  "White  King  of  Africa,  The 

LIEUT.  FREDERICK  GARRISON,  U.  S.  A. 

Every  American  boy  takes  a  keen  interest  in  the  affairs  of  West 
Point.  No  more  capable  writer  on  this  popular  subject  could  be  found 
than  Lieut.  Garrison,  who  vividly  describes  the  life,  adventures  and 
unique  incidents  that  have  occurred  in  that  great  institution — in  these 
famous  West  Point  stories. 

Off  for  West  Point  On  Guard 

Cadet's  Honor,  A  West  Point  Treasure,  The 

West  Point  Rivals,  The 

HEADON    MILL. 

The  hunt  for  gold  has  always  been  a  popular  subject  for  considera- 
tion, and  Mr.  Hill  has  added  a  splendid  story  on  the  subject  in  this 
romance  of  the  Klondyke. 

Spectre  Gold 

HENRY   HARRISON   LEWIS. 

Mr.  Lewis  is  a  graduate  of  the  Naval  Academy  at  Annapolis,  and 
has  written  a  great  many  books  for  boys.  Among  his  best  works  are 
the  following  titles — the  subjects  include  a  vast  series  of  adventures 
in  all  parts  of  the  world.  The  historical  data  is  correct,  and  they 
should  be  read  by  all  boys,  for  the  excellent  information  they  contain. 

Centreboard  Jim  Ensign  Merrill 

King  of  the  Island  Sword  and  Pen 

Midshipman  Merrill  Valley  of  Mystery,  The 

Yankee  Boys  in  Japan 

DAVID  McKAY,  Publisher,  Philadelphia. 

(iv) 


LIEUT.  LIOTVEL  LOUNSBERRY. 

A  series  of  books  embracing  many  adventures  under  our  famous 
naval  commanders,  and  with  our  army  during  the  War  of  1812  and 
the  Civil  War.  Founded  on  sound  history,  these  books  are  written 
for  boys,  with  the  idea  of  combining  pleasure  with  profit ;  to  cutivate 
a  fondness  for  study — especially  of  what  has  been  accomplished  by 
our  army  and  navy. 

Cadet  Kit  Carey  Randy,  the  Pilot 

Captain  Carey  Tom  Truxton's  School  Days 

Kit  Carey's  Protege  Tom  Truxton's  Ocean  Trip 

Lieut.  Carey's  Luck  Treasure  of  the  Golden  Crater 

Out  With  Commodore  Decatur  "Won  at  "West  Point 


BROOKS   McCORMICK. 

Four  splendid  books  of   adventure  on  sea  and  land,  by  this  well- 
known  writer  for  boys. 

Giant  Islanders,  The  Nature's  Young  Nobleman. 

How  He  "Won  Rival  Battalions 


WALTER  MORRIS. 

This  charming  story  contains  thirty-two  chapters  of  just  the  sort  of 
school  life  that  charms  the  boy  readers. 

Bob  Porter  at  Lakeview  Academy 


STANLEY  MORRIS. 

Mr.  Norris  is  without  a  rival  as  a  writer  of  "Circus  Stories"  for 
boys.  These  four  books  are  full  of  thrilling  adventures,  but  good, 
wholsome  reading  for  young  Americans. 

Phil,  the  Showman  Young  Showman's  Pluck,  The 

Young  Showman's  Rivals,  The       Young  Showman's  Triumph 


LIEUT.  JAMES  K.  ORTOP?. 

When  a  boy  has  read  one  of  Lieut.  Orton's  books,  it  requires  no 
urging  to  induce  him  to  read  the  others.     Not  a  dull  page  in  any  of 
them. 
Beach  Boy  Joe  Secret  Chart,  The 

Last  Chance  Mine  Tom  Havens  with  the  "White 

Squadron 

DAVID  McKAY,  Publisher,  Philadelphia. 

(v) 


JAMES  OTIS. 

Mr.  Otis  is  known  by  nearly  every  American  boy,  and  needs  no  in- 
troduction here.     The  following  copyrights  are  among  his  best : 

Chased  Through  Norway  Unprovoked  Mutiny 

Inland  "Waterways  "Wheeling  for  Fortune 

Reuben  Green's  Adventures  at  Yale 


GILBERT  PATTEN. 

Mr.  Patten  has  had  the  distinction  of  having  his  books  adopted  by 
the  U.  S.  Government  for  all  naval  libraries  on  board  our  war  ships. 
While  aiming  to  avoid  the  extravagant  and  sensational,  the  stories 
contain  enough  thrilling  incidents  to  please  the  lad  who  loves  action 
and  adventure.  In  the  Rockspur  stories  the  description  of  their  Base- 
ball and  Football  Games  and  other  contests  with  rival  clubs  and  teams 
make  very  exciting  and  absorbing  reading  ;  and  few  boys  with  warm 
blood  in  their  veins,  having  once  begun  the  perusal  of  one  of  these 
books,  will  willingly  lay  it  down  till  it  is  finished. 

Boy  Boomers  Jud  and  Joe 

Boy  Cattle  King  Rockspur  Nine,  The 

Boy  from  the  "West  Kockspur  Eleven,  The 

Don  Kirke's  Mine  Rockspur  Rivals,  The 


ST.  GEORGE   RATIIIIORXE. 

Mr.  Bathborne's  stories  for  boys  have  the  peculiar  charm  of 
dealing  with  localities  and  conditions  with  which  he  is  thoroughly 
familiar.  The  scenes  of  these  excellent  stories  are  along  the  Florida 
coast  and  on  the  western  prairies. 

Canoe  and  Camp  Fire  Chums  of  the  Prairie 

Faddling  Under  Palmettos  Young  Range  Riders 

Rival  Canoe  Boys  Gulf  Cruisers 

Sunset  Ranch  Shifting  "Winds 


ARTHUR  SEWELI*. 

An  American  story  by  an  American  author.  It  relates  how  a 
Yankee  boy  overcame  many  obstacles  in  school  and  out.  Thoroughly 
interesting  from  start  to  finish. 

Gay  Dashleigh's  Academy  Days 


DAVID  McKAY,  Publisher,  Philadelphia. 

(vi) 


CAPT.  DAVID  SOUTHWICK. 

An  exceptionally  good  story  of  frontier  life  among  the  Indians  in 
the  far  West,  during  the  early  settlement  period. 

Jack  "Wheeler 

The  Famous  Frank  Merriwell  Stories. 

BURT  I*.  STAP9DISH. 

No  modern  series  of  tales  for  boys  and  youths  has  met  with  any- 
thing like  the  cordial  reception  and  popularity  accorded  to  the  Frank 
Merriwell  Stories.  There  must  be  a  reason  for  this  and  there  is. 
Frank  Merriwell,  as  portrayed  by  the  author,  is  a  jolly  whole-souled, 
honest,  courageous  American  lad,  who  appeals  to  the  hearts  of  the 
boys.  He  has  no  bad  habits,  and  his  manliness  inculcates  the  idea 
that  it  is  not  necessary  for  a  boy  to  indulge  in  petty  vices  to  be  a  hero. 
Frank  Merriwell' s  example  is  a  shining  light  for  every  ambitious  lad 
to  follow.  Six  volumes  now  ready  : 

Frank  MerriwelFs  School  Days       Frank  Merriwell's  Trip  "West 
Frank  Merriwell's  Chums  Frank  Merriwell  Down  South. 

Frank  Merriwell's  Foes  Frank  Merriwell's  Bravery 

VICTOR.  ST.  CLAIR. 

These  books  are  full  of  good,  clean  adventure,  thrilling  enough  to 
please  the  full-blooded  wide-awake  boy,  yet  containing  nothing  to 
which  there  can  be  any  objection  from  those  who  are  careful  as  to  the 
kind  of  books  they  put  into  the  hands  of  the  young. 

Cast  Away  in  the  Jungle  Little  Snap,  the  Post  Boy 

For  Home  and  Honor  Zig-Zag,  the  Boy  Conjurer 

From  Switch  to  Lever  Zip,  the  Acrobat 

MATTHEW  'WHITE,  JR. 

Good,  healthy,  strong  books  for  the  American  lad.  No  more  in- 
teresting books  for  the  young  appear  on  our  lists. 

Adventures  of  a  Young  Athlete  My  Mysterious  Fortune 

Eric  Dane  Tour  of  a  Private  Car 

Guy  Hammersley  Young  Editor,  The 

ARTHUR   HI.  \VIXFIi:i,I>. 

One  of  the  most  popular  authors  of  boys'  books.  He  writes  also 
under  the  name  of  Bonehill  and  Stratemeyer.  Here  are  three  of  his 
best. 

Mark  Dale's  Stage  Venture  Young  Bank  Clerk,  The 

Young  Bridge  Tender,  The 

DAVID  McKAY,  Publisher,  Philadelphia. 

(vii) 


Ci A YI.i; 

This  very  interesting  story  relates  the  trials  and  triumphs  of  a 
Young  American  Actor,  including  the  solution  of  a  very  puzzling 
mystery. 

Young  Actor,  The 


A.  YOUNG. 

This  book  is  not  a  treatise  on  sports,  as  the  title  would  indicate,  but 
relates  a  series  of  thrilling  adventures  among  boy  campers  in  the 
woods  of  Maine. 

Boats,  Bats  and  Bicycles 


DAVLD  McKAY,  Publisher,  Philadelphia. 


(vfii) 


